



























































































































Book. 

Copyright N?..\ l/v 
eo 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 











UNCLE JAMES’ SHOES 





















/ 

UNCLE JAMES’ SHOES 

By DORIS and SAMUEL WEBSTER 



PUBLISHED BY THE CENTURY CO. 
NEW YORK AND LONDON :: :: 1923 







~?z 


•3 


to^ 

' lU- 


Copyright, 1923, by y 
The Century Co. 


r 


©C1A71178 

C ^W jO^ 



$ 1 - 7 ^ 

PRINTED IN U. S. A. 


SEP -7 ’23 



JAMES H. BALDWIN 

who was not the original 













CONTENTS 


chapter 

I. 

Billy Defies the Great Man 
of Stormville. 

PAGE 

3 

• 

HH 

HH 

Introduces W. Clintock & Co., 
Inc. 

23 

III. 

Uncle James’s Health Con¬ 
tinues to be Excellent . 

42 

hH 

< 

• 

Billy Rescues a Basket—and a 
Lady. 

62 

V. 

A World of Pearl .... 

78 

VI. 

“Five Years from Now” 

94 

VII. 

Uncle James Rearranges Mat- 



ters. 

ii 5 

VIII. 

Uncle James Wages the Great 
Price War. 

135 

IX. 

Randolph Explains .... 

159 

X. 

Billy Begins to Show Signs of 
Sense ....... 

186 

XI. 

The Alliances are Rearranged 

205 

XII. 

The World is Turned Upside 
Down. 

219 

XIII. 

Randolph Recommends a Way 
Out. 

245 

XIV. 

In Which Billy Goes Hungry . 

263 

















UNCLE JAMES’ SHOES 

















UNCLE JAMES’ SHOES 


CHAPTER I 

BILLY DEFIES THE GREAT MAN OF 
STORMVILLE 

U N CLE JAMES was coming to dinner. 
That was why Euphemia was making 
a lemon meringue pie. Uncle James 
had a warm feeling toward lemon meringue 
pie which his sister figured might suffuse the 
little group of her dear ones as they gathered 
round the golden oak dining-room table. 
And the reason Euphemia was baking spa¬ 
ghetti in the glass dish was that James had 
given her the dish on her fifteenth wedding 
anniversary. And behind the asparagus was 
still another reason, the asparagus-tongs. 

Obviously, Euphemia had not always lived 
modestly. Asparagus-tongs do not grace the 
tables of the poor. Mrs. Clintock’s memory 

3 


4 


Uncle James Shoes 


could go back—and it often did—to the days 
when her father had been the leading citizen 
of Stormville, recognizing the great mass of 
the town simply as workers in his cannery. 
Mrs. Clintock, when Miss Euphemia Peters, 
had worn broadcloth, walked on Axminster, 
dined off mahogany. Then she had married 
William Clintock, and sunk, still clutching the 
asparagus-tongs, to serge, grass rugs, and 
golden oak. 

Edward Willinger Peters had quarreled 
with his son-in-law, William Clintock, had cut 
off his daughter in his will in a fit of exaspera¬ 
tion, and had died in the same fit. Doubtless, 
had Peters been able to survive the fit of exas¬ 
peration, it would have worn off, and he would 
have reinstated his only daughter and forgiven 
her husband, but, as it was, Euphemia was left 
with nothing but William Clintock’s measly 
salary and a piece of philosophy. Sitting 
before the asparagus-tongs, she often reflected 
on the ways of Fate, emerging from her 
reveries holding by the tail one fixed idea: 
never quarrel with your rich relatives. 

Euphemia Clintock had a rich relative 



The Great Man of Stormville 5 

on whom to exercise the wisdom learned 
through her devastating experience. Her 
elder brother, James, had inherited the Peters 
cannery and all the Peters wealth. To James 
Randolph Peters Euphemia deferred in a per¬ 
petual state of anxious apology. She might 
have given him Jimmy’s head, or Martha’s, 
on a charger had he asked for it. She cer¬ 
tainly would have given him Billy’s. Indeed, 
James, though seldom seen in the Clintock 
household, constantly stalked through it like a 
family ghost. 

Euphemia’s central idea in life was that the 
Clintock family should inherit Uncle James’s 
fortune. Born to prosperity, she considered 
it her normal state, but she had no idea that it 
was a thing to be worked for. Money had 
been hers, and it must be hers again. And 
Uncle James was the obvious source from 
which it would come. 

Jimmy and Martha Clintock grew up in 
fear of the Lord and Uncle James, especially 
Uncle James. In his presence their personal¬ 
ities scurried away, leaving empty little shells 
that he could n’t possibly find offensive. 


6 


Uncle James Shoes 


When Billy, the youngest, came along, Uncle 
James had come to completely shadow the 
Clintock house. Billy took to the barn. 

Billy was in the barn on the day when lemon 
pie, glass dish, and asparagus-tongs had been 
assembled to do honor to Uncle James. 

“Where is that boy?” cried his harassed 
mother for the twentieth time, as her husband, 
carefully dressed in his best, came into the 
parlor, where Euphemia was plumping up the 
cushions of the easy-chair. 

William Clintock, a mild little man going 
on sixty, did not let the question get beyond 
his ear-drums. He had heard it so often that 
it had entirely lost the significance of an 
inquiry. “Did you see this?” he said, his 
eyes on the newspaper which he held. “Down 
in Norwalk, Connecticut, a Baldwin apple- 
tree was struck by lightning, and next morning 
they found it was loaded with baked apples. 
They had baked apples for a week.” Slowly 
he added, “It does n’t sound possible.” 

Euphemia, carefully rearranging a large 
framed photograph of James Peters, which 


7 


The Great Man of Stormville 

occupied the center of the mantel, made no 
comment on the phenomenon. Her interest 
was immediately attracted, however, when 
William Clintock was about to take the easy- 
chair. “No, William, that’s for James,” she 
said, and William hastily took another chair, 
his eyes still on the paper. 

“Now, don’t you get talking politics to¬ 
night until you find out James’s opinions,” 
warned Euphemia. “If he says Roosevelt 
ought to be hanged, don’t you say he had n’t. 
If there’s anything James hates it’s a rad¬ 
ical.” 

“I ’ll be careful,” promised William. 

“Why doesn’t Billy get dressed?” cried 
Euphemia—another of her favorite questions 
that always remained unanswered. “I wish 
JBilly had half of Jimmy’s sense. My heart’s 
in my mouth every time James comes to the 
house. Billy contradicts him! Deliberately 
contradicts him when James happens to be 
wrong. That’s the worst time to contradict 
him.” 

“Oh, Billy’s all right,” interposed William 


8 


Uncle James Shoes 


gently. “He reminds me a lot of my grand¬ 
father, old Silas Clintock. He has a mind of 
his own.” 

Euphemia dropped tiredly into a chair. 
“It’s all very well to have a mind of your own 
when you can afford it,” she contested, “If you 
had n’t had a mind of your own and quarreled 
with Papa he wouldn’t have left James the 
cannery and all the money and me nothing but 
the asparagus-tongs. If it had n’t been for 
you, William, I’d be living in the style I was 
accustomed to when I was Euphemia Peters. 
I don’t want to lose any more through any 
one’s mind of their own! Where is Billy?” 
She jumped up again and threw open the 
window. From the barn came the sound of 
energetic hammering. A minute later Mrs. 
Clintock flung open the barn door in exaspera¬ 
tion. She had had a hard afternoon. Half 
the heads of the asparagus had boiled off, and 
the under crust of the pie had crumbled 

when she tried to roll it, because, in an un¬ 
conscious desire to be lavish where James 

was concerned she had cut in too much 
butter. 


9 


The Great Man of Stormville 

“For Heaven’s sake, Billy,” she exploded, 
“why are n’t you in the house getting dressed? 
What on earth have you got there? That old 
banged-up pail that I threw away?” 

Billy clutched the pail. “It’s a perfectly 
good pail except for one or two holes!” he 
protested. “When I get through with this 
pail you won’t know it!” 

“Well, if that is n’t like you, Billy Clin- 
tock!” cried his badgered mother. “There 
you go wasting your time on a pail that is n’t 
worth two cents and maybe losing— Go up¬ 
stairs and wash and dress this minute. And 
get that solder out of your finger-nails. Do 
you hear me?” 

Slowly Billy wiped his hands on his 
knickerbockers and moved toward the door. 
He was going, but not in a chastened spirit. 
“Now, don’t you let Jimmy or Martha or 
anybody touch that pail,” he said. He spoke 
with a drawl, but earnestly. There was no 
suggestion of languor in his speech. It 
seemed rather as though he were unaccus¬ 
tomed to putting his thoughts into words, and 
were taking plenty of time to make them clear 


10 


Uncle James Shoes 


and definite. “When I get through with that 
pail it won’t even drip.” 

“This is n’t any time to think of pails,” 
interrupted his mother. “I declare, I wish 
you had more sense. Martha and Jimmie 
have been working themselves to death all day 
getting ready for Uncle James, and here } r ou 
act as if you did n’t care what he thought of 
us.” 

“Well,” said Billy slowly, “I don’t care 
what he does think of us. I don’t think much 
of Uncle James.” 

There he stood, in his brown corduroy 
knickerbockers, kicking at the sill of the barn 
door, as well and cheerful as a boy could be. 
A bolt had not descended from Heaven and 
finished him then and there. His expression 
did change, though, as Uncle James, in all his 
overwhelming portliness, stepped around the 
corner of the barn and confronted him. 
Billy might say he did n’t think much of 
Uncle James, but he had not quite thrown off 
the idea that Uncle James was a kind of 
Jehovah, unpleasant, perhaps, but vastly 
powerful. However, his brown eyes did not 


11 


The Great Man of Stormville 

flinch, his pink cheeks did not pale, as he 
looked into his uncle’s cold gray eyes. 

“So you don’t think much of Uncle James?” 
said that misprized person. 

“Well,” said Billy slowly, “I guess you 
don’t think much of me, either.” 

“And I should think he wouldn’t!” cried 
Euphemia. “When your uncle is kind 
enough to come to dinner and is greeted with 
words like that—” 

“He came before he was expected,” de¬ 
murred Billy, disclaiming responsibility. “I 
would n’t have said it if I’d known he was 
there.” 

“But behind my back,” exploded his out¬ 
raged uncle, “you snap your fingers at me! 
A boy like that”—he turned trembling upon 
his sister—“is n’t fit to—to handle—” 

“I know, James dear,” agreed his frightened 
sister, “but there are Jimmy and Martha—” 
In her exasperation she was throwing Billy to 
the winds. It was the family way. 

“Yes,” admitted Uncle James bitterly, 
“there’s Jimmy—” 

“Your namesake!” reminded Euphemia. 




12 


Uncle James Shoes 


“And there’s Martha—” 

“The dear girl has just made you a lemon- 
pie,” lied her devoted mother. 

“And,” said the great man ominously—the 
very birds appeared to stop singing to listen— 
“And,” he thundered, “there are Randolph 
and Henrietta and Wilhelmina!” 

Euphemia cried out as if she had been hurt. 
It was no news to her. Every moment of the 
day she was conscious that there were Ran¬ 
dolph and Henrietta and Wilhelmina. It 
was one of those lamentable facts of life that 
could n’t be got around. Alas! There were 
Randolph and Henrietta and Wilhelmina. 

“But James,” she pleaded, attempting to 
discount the facts she could n’t deny, “they 
are your cousin's children. 

“They are,” admitted James; but his tone 
implied, “What of it?” 

Euphemia’s hatred of her cousin Bessie 
swelled within her. Bessie had always come 
between her and James. And now Bessie’s 
hand was outstretched towards James’s for¬ 
tune, her fingers were clutching at it. Euphe¬ 
mia swallowed her rage, but her blue eyes 



The Great Man of Stormville 13 

were hard and her mouth set as she said 
lightly: “Poor things. I’m glad you’re 
fond of them. They have n’t much to look 
forward to in life. The girls are such little 
dunces, and Randolph is so ugly.” 

Uncle James drew himself up. “I am 
told,” he said, “that Randolph looks like 
me.” 

“He does,” said Billy earnestly. “Don’t 
you remember, Mama, you said yourself—” 

“Billy,” ordered his mother sharply, “go 
into the house.” 

Only Uncle James was impervious to the 
nervous atmosphere of the dinner-table. 
Agitatedly, Euphemia changed the tea-cups 
from saucer to saucer so that James would be 
sure to get a good one, and in the end she gave 
him a cup that leaked and a saucer that did not 
match. She laughed a great deal, laughed at 
everything that was said. She tried to cover 
up her nervousness, the children’s clumsiness, 
her husband’s silence, by laughing. She gave 
Uncle James cream and no sugar, when he 
had asked for sugar and no cream. Having 
bought the cream expressly for James, she 


14 Uncle James Shoes 

could not seem to get over the idea that he 
ought to take it. Only when the asparagus- 
tongs were in her hands did Euphemia feel 
at ease. Then she became again Euphemia 
Peters, and James was only her older brother, 
an impressive person still, but nevertheless of 
her own blood. 

William Clintock had long since fallen 
under the spell of Uncle James. His first 
great error in quarreling with his wife’s 
father had left him defenseless. He felt that 
he had been a fool, and his wife did not hes¬ 
itate to tell him so. He made amends by 
allowing her to steer him thenceforth. One 
idea she had firmly planted in his mind, and 
it had taken root. Under no circumstances 
must he quarrel with Uncle James. Bound 
hand and foot with the Uncle James idea, 
he sat at the end of the table, a plain citizen, 
plain in face and manner, and helped Uncle 
James to the breasts of the two chickens. 

Uncle James amused himself by turning 
the knife in his sister’s wounds. “I dined 
last night with Bessie,” he began pleasantly. 

“Yes?” encouraged Euphemia, with an in- 


The Great Man of Stormville 15 

appropriate laugh. “And has Bessie re¬ 
covered from that unbecoming cold?” 

“Bessie,” said James blandly, “was looking 
extremely well. And she was in excellent 
spirits. She has reason to be happy. Her 
son is perhaps not beautiful—I understand 
that you find Randolph exceptionally plain— 
but he has brains. Yes, Euphemia, he has 
brains.” 

“Oh, I never meant that Randolph was n’t 
good looking,” protested Euphemia. “In 
fact, I think he’s unusually handsome.” 

Her husband opened his eyes. “Why, 
Phemie,” he said, “you always say he stops 
the clock.” He thought he was safe in run¬ 
ning down Bessie’s children before James, 
but apparently he had put his foot in it again. 
Euphemia gave him a look that even Wil¬ 
liam’s simple mind could understand. It 
was his last remark during that meal. 

“Randolph has an unusual mind,” went on 
Uncle James. “A scientific brain. Yes, that 
that is what I call it—the scientific brain.” 

“That’s what I’ve always called Jimmy’s 
brain,” put in Euphemia hopefully. 



16 


Uncle James Shoes 


“I am sorry to hear it,” said Uncle James. 
“Jimmy is now fifteen. I was about to sug¬ 
gest that he come into my office at the cannery 
and learn the business. I thought he had a 
plain business head. But if he has a scien¬ 
tific brain—I don’t want him.” 

William Clintock, since he was not allowed 
to speak, contented himself with saying 
inwardly: “Jimmy hasn’t any brain at 
all. He’d be wonderful in your business.” 
Euphemia spoke in an awe-struck voice. 
“James,” she said, “many and many a time 
I’ve looked at Jimmy and said, ‘That boy 
was made to can fish!’ ” 

Jimmy, an anemic-looking boy, with 
lanky limbs and lanky hair, weak eyes and a 
weak chin, accepted the compliment humbly. 
Ele made no attempt to enter the conversation. 
His future was in the hands of Uncle James 
and the Lord. 

“Now, Billy,” went on Uncle James, dex¬ 
terously leaving Jimmy hanging between 
heaven and earth, “Billy I shall not take into 
business unless he changes very much for the 
better during the next five years.” 



The Great Man of Stormville 17 

“I don’t expect I’m going to change at all,” 
put in Billy hastily. He had a feeling that 
he had not been made to can fish. 

“I’m sorry,” shrugged Uncle James. 
“You would benefit by any change. Benefit 
spiritually—and, possibly—financially.” 

Euphemia forgot her son’s transgressions. 
She could not see the gates of paradise 
slammed in his face without making some 
effort to shove him through. “Oh, but, james, 
Billy has some good qualities,” she urged. 
“He’s such a clever boy about mending things 
and fixing them over.” And then came an 
inspiration, an inspiration that was to change 
Billy’s life. That night she tossed and 
moaned and bit her tongue in anguish that 
the words had passed her lips, but as she sat 
there at dinner pleading Billy’s cause they 
seemed the essence of tact. Indeed, they 
were tactful. If only Billy had n’t— 

“Why, James,” she cried, “you should see 
the way he’s done over that old boat you 
gave him!” 

Billy saw sooner than his mother what 
would happen. He looked furtively at Uncle 



18 


Uncle James Shoes 


James and back at his plate again, concen¬ 
trating on a snowy heap of mashed potatoes. 

James cleared his throat. “So you’ve 
mended that old—er—.that nice boat, have 
you?” he asked. Billy grunted assent. 

“And you should see how nicely he’s done 
it,” put in Billy’s proud mother. “You’d 
never know it was the same boat, James. He 
took the old boards out of the bottom and 
put in new ones, and filled up all the chinks 
with rosin or whatever it is, and painted it 
bright red. Why, James,” archly, “you’d 
never have thrown it away if you’d known 
what could be done with it.” 

“Thrown it away!” James affected heavy 
surprise. “Who says I threw it away?” 
And Euphemia saw what she had done. 
Billy gave up shoveling away the potato-heap, 
put down his fork, and clenched his fists under 
the table. He was ready for battle. 

“Why, that boat,” went on Uncle James, 
slowly improvising, “is one of my proudest 
possessions. I’ve had it around ever since I 
was Billy’s age, and I tell you I’m fond of 
that boat. That’s why I was willing to pay 




The Great Man of Stormville 19 

good money to have it repaired. I ’ll give 
you fifty cents for your work, boy, and,” he 
ended munificently, “and the cost of the 
paint.” 

Billy’s brown eyes blazed, and the color 
came to his cheeks. His round lips parted 
and he breathed hard. If was a moment be¬ 
fore he was able to speak. Boldly, then, he 
launched his attack. 

“That boat was kicking around in the 
mud,” he flared, “and you wanted to get rid 
of it. You told me to cart it away and burn 
it up!” 

“Billy, Billy,” intoned Uncle James in 
shocked surprise, “do you think I’d have 
given you a nice boat like that?” 

“Of course you would n’t have given me a 
nice boat,” said Billy with unintentional 
irony, “but it was nt a nice boat—not till I 
got hold of it. It was n’t worth a cent, and 
I could sell it now for twenty-five dollars.” 

Alas, it was the wrong argument. “That 
will do, Billy,” said Uncle James, as one who 
settles a point once and for all; “the boat is 
mine.” 


20 


Uncle James Shoes 


“Did n’t he give it to me, Jimmy?” cried 
Billy wildly. “You were there. Tell him 
he gave it to me!” It was a vain appeal. 
How can one left hanging in the air be ex¬ 
pected to take a firm stand? “I don’t remem¬ 
ber,” mumbled Jimmy, looking down at his 
plate. 

“Spoken like a man!” applauded Uncle 
James. At that moment Billy cast off his 
family. For the first time he felt alone. 

“Your Uncle James doesn’t want you to 
have it,” reasoned Euphemia, so anxious to 
see her brother’s point of view that she almost 
persuaded herself that he was right. “He’s 
afraid you might get drowned.” 

“I am not afraid he might get drowned,” 
contradicted Uncle James. “I could con¬ 
template the possibility with the utmost se¬ 
renity.” 

“Martha dear,” said Euphemia hurriedly, 
“take the dishes off and bring in your pie.” 
Martha, an awkward fourteen-year-old, 
sloppy in figure but neat in dress and not bad 
looking on the whole, brought in the lemon 
meringue. It was consumed almost in silence. 


The Great Man of Stormville 21 

Hot thoughts went rapidly through Billy’s 
mind. He would hide the boat. No, they’d 
find it right away. He’d run away and 
never see them again. But he knew 
he would not. He ’d stove a hole in the 
boat and sink it! That was an inspira¬ 
tion! But his determination weakened 
instantly. He could n’t spoil that nice new- 
looking red boat. He would n’t have the 
heart. Well, he’d think up some plan. He 
would n’t give that boat to Uncle James with¬ 
out a struggle. 

“Well, how about it, Jimmy?” boomed 
Uncle James. “Want to come into the busi¬ 
ness?” As though he had been pulled up by 
a wire, Jimmy ascended into the clouds. “I 
sure do, Uncle James,” he gasped. 

“I ’ll give you five—no, four dollars a 
week to start on. I started on two myself,” 
said Uncle James, and with a grand gesture 
he added, “And you shall have unlimited op¬ 
portunity.” 

Jimmy could not help feeling a little disap¬ 
pointed as he looked around heaven, but at 
least the vista was magnificent. “Unlimited 



22 


Uncle James Shoes 


opportunity” had a golden sound. “All 
right,” he said, and left it to his mother to 
add, “Oh, thank you, James. You can’t think 
what it means to us to have Jimmy with you. 
It will be a wonderful initiation into big busi¬ 
ness.” 

“And if Billy ever wants to come into the 
business,” said Uncle James shortly, “he can 
row my boat home to my place to-morrow.” 

Billy did n’t even answer. He had decided 
that Uncle James was no longer his uncle, 
was not a person of any importance, indeed 
was not present at all. 


CHAPTER II 

INTRODUCES W. CLINTOCK & CO., INC. 

N EXT day was a Saturday, always an 
active day for Billy. And on this 
particular Saturday he had before 
him, besides his usual activities, the job of 
finding a way to keep his boat out of the 
clutches of Uncle James. 

Billy went out to the barn before breakfast. 
The sign that he had painted the day before 
was dry. With excusable pride Billy read 
the announcement: “W. Clintock & Co., In¬ 
corporated. Buys any old broken bicycles, 
lawn-mowers, skates, packing-boxes, etc. 
Sells first-class skates, lawn-mowers, bicycles, 
furniture, etc.” Billy liked the sound of “In¬ 
corporated.” It gave the business standing. 

After he had nailed up the sign over the 
barn door Billy went over his accounts. He 
kept them in an old school blank-book. Billy 

23 


24 


Uncle James Shoes 


began a new page with the date, after which 
he wrote in a firm round hand: 


Cash ...... $ 6.25 

One bicycle, value ...... 10.00 

One lawn-mower. 5.00 

2 pr. skates, ea. 50c . . . .< 1.00 

1 sled. 


Billy looked at the sled, which he had found 
on an ash-heap, and put down “10 cents.” 
“But it ’ll be worth more when I’m through 
with it,” he thought. Fie looked over the 
packing-boxes and valued them at fifty cents. 
The last item on his list was “1 boat.” He 
put that down at $15, but added a question- 
mark. The boat was his prize possession. 
The total made $37.85. Billy closed his book 
with the air of a magnate and went in to 
breakfast. 

After breakfast Billy made an early call 
on Charles H. Brown. Mr. Brown was a 
lawyer, fat, cheerful, and popular, especially 
with the boys of Stormville. He had been 
known to play baseball with them, and on 
one occasion treated the whole crowd to soda. 






Introduces TV. Clintock & CoInc. 25 

A few days before Brown had expressed an 
interest in Billy’s boat, and Billy had him in 
mind as a possible customer. For obvious 
reasons the idea of selling the boat to a lawyer 
appealed to Billy. 

Mr. Brown was at the breakfast-table eat- 
ing griddle-cakes when Billy walked in. 
Mrs. Brown, who had apparently already 
finished breakfast, being an earlier riser than 
her husband, was up-stairs making beds. 
Billy took her chair at the breakfast-table and 
went at once to the point: “You told me the 
other day you’d give me fifteen dollars for 
that boat. I ’ll sell it to you to-day for— 
twenty.” 

Mr. Brown shook his head. “Fifteen’s all 
I ’ll give,” he said. 

“Boats are going up,” Billy reminded him, 
in the tone of “Don’t say I did n’t warn you.” 

“Well, my desire for a boat’s stationary,” 
countered the lawyer. 

A yellow puppy that had adopted the 
Browns a short time before put his big paws 
on Billy’s knee. Billy fondled his soft ears. 
“I ’ll tell you what I ’ll do,” said Billy. “You 


26 


Uncle James Shoes 


give me twenty dollars, and I ’ll drown this 
moth-eaten puppy of yours for you.” 

“Now Billy Clintock, don’t think you can 
put anything like that over on me,” warned 
the lawyer. “You’ve wanted that dog for 
a month.” 

“Well,” said Billy, “then suppose you give 
me fifteen dollars and the dog.” 

“Done,” said Lawyer Brown. 

“Of course you ’re getting the best of the 
bargain,” declared Billy, “but everybody says 
you ’re the smartest lawyer in town—” 

“Stop that, Billy Clintock!” ordered Mr. 
Brown. “They all tell me to look out for 
you. I expect that boat leaks like a sieve. I 
won’t dare go out in it. I only want it to 
plant geraniums in.” 

“I don’t sell leaky boats,” said Billy indig¬ 
nantly. “Anything I sell has my guarantee 
on it, and I ’ll take it back if it is n’t satisfac¬ 
tory. It’s a first-class boat, and it ’ll hold ten 
men that weigh three hundred pounds.” 

“I don’t weigh three hundred pounds!” 
roared Lawyer Brown. 


Introduces W. Clintoch & Co., Inc . 27 

“How much do you weigh?” asked Billy, 
more from curiosity than impishness. 

“Look here,” returned Brown, “you go 
home and row that boat around to the creek. 
And take the pup. He’s just chewed up my 
wife’s lace curtains. There’s one inside of 
him now that I ought to charge you for.” 

Billy picked up the wriggling puppy and 
started home in high feather. He had done 
well on two scores. Uncle James would not 
get that boat away from Lawyer Brown, even 
if he cared to try, which he probably would 
not. And the puppy was a wonder. Billy 
christened him Napoleon. 

The puppy wriggled out of his arms and 
got under his feet, so that Billy had to walk 
over him at every step. In due course, how¬ 
ever, they reached the Clintock house, a two- 
story white wooden affair, with a mail-order 
piazza. 

Euphemia looked at the puppy from the 
kitchen door with an unfriendly eye. “What 
have you got there?” she demanded. 

“A dog,” explained Billy, superfluously; 


28 


Uncle James Shoes 


and he hastened to add: u He’s a very fine 
dog. I would n’t have been able to get him 
so cheap only he chews up Mrs. Brown’s cur¬ 
tains.” 

The information did not increase Euphe- 
mia’s love of the puppy. “You did n’t pay 
good money for that mongrel?” she demanded. 
“Billy, you don’t know a thing about the value 
of money.” 

“Mama, that dog’s worth all I paid for 
him and more,” protested Billy. “Why, the 
curtain inside of him is worth ten dollars 
alone—” 

“Well, don’t you let him in the house,” de¬ 
creed Euphemia. “If you keep him at all 
he ’ll have to stay in the barn.” 

“Of course,” agreed Billy. He knew that 
all the dogs in the neighborhood were ex¬ 
pected to stay in the barn, and that not one of 
them ever did. However, he took Napoleon 
to the barn and explained to him that this was 
home. Once more Billy went over his ac¬ 
counts, crossing out the boat item, changing 
cash on hand to $21.25, and adding to the list 
of hio assets “1 dog, value . . . $5.” Business 


Introduces TV. Clintock & Co ., Inc. 29 

was booming. But Billy had an even bigger 
project on hand, to which he intended to de¬ 
vote the rest of the day. 

About ten years before, Major Pratt had 
bought the first automobile ever seen in the 
streets of Stormville—a hard-tired one-lunger, 
with the general look of a buggy that had 
lost its horse. This horseless carriage, as it 
was appropriately called, had long since been 
superseded by other models; and, after it had 
given up trying to compete with them, it had 
remained inert in the Pratt barn. 

Major Pratt had given this specimen to his 
grandson, Eddy, and for the last two weeks 
Eddy had lorded it over Stormville as the 
owner of an automobile. However, Storm- 
ville’s lesser citizens had not hesitated to point 
out that the automobile would not go, a fact 
which was no news to Eddy. Indeed, Eddy 
had spent a good many hours under the auto¬ 
mobile, and his passion for it was waning. 
Meanwhile, Billy had borrowed a book on 
repairing automobiles from the library, and 
was anxious to get at the patient; so, after 
leaving Mr. Brown’s boat at the creek and 


30 


Uncle James Shoes 


collecting his fifteen dollars, he walked over 
to Eddy Pratt’s. 

Eddy was in the barn making medals for 
a running-race that was to be held in his lane. 
Eddy’s one ambition was to wear a medal; 
so he had decided that the best medal, a watch- 
fob .ornament advertising a certain brand of 
tobacco, was to be awarded to the winner of a 
Special Race, to which contestants were to 
be invited—by Eddy. He looked Billy over 
and decided not to invite him to take part in 
the Special Race. 

“Hello, Eddy,” said Billy. 

“Hello, Billy,” said Eddy. 

“What you going to do with that junk car 
you’ve got there?” asked Billy. 

“That’s no junk car!” protested Eddy. 
“Grandpa says that car’s gone ten thousand 
miles, and it’s good for ten thousand more.” 

“It’ll cost a lot to tow it ten thousand 
miles,” observed Billy. 

“Tow nothing!” cried Eddy. “I ’ll have 
that car going in a week.” But he spoke with 
less assurance than usual. 

“I tell you,” said Billy. “You know that 


Introduces W. Clintock & Co., Inc . 31 

gun of mine? I ’ll give you that for it.” 

“What! Give that third-hand gun for my 
automobile!” cried Eddy. “You’re crazy!” 

“The gun ’ll shoot,” remarked Billy point¬ 
edly. 

“Why, I would n’t trade that automobile 
for a hundred dollars!” blustered Eddy. 

“Oh, that car’s no good,” said Billy. 
“They don’t make ’em now with hard tires. 
The cars to-day—” 

“Oh, they ’re no good, the cars to-day,” 
sniffed Eddy. “They don’t make ’em of good 
material any more.” 

“Material! Why that thing’s nothing but 
wood and tin!” scoffed Billy. “And I ’ll give 
you my gun and a mouth-organ and two 
dollars for it.” He pulled out two dollars and 
laid them before Eddy. 

Eddy looked at them a long while. “How 
much money’ve you got?” he asked. 

“That’s all I’ve got for that car,” replied 
Billy. 

“You give me those other things and ten 
dollars,” said Eddy, “and you can take the 
car. I won’t take a cent less.” 


32 


Uncle James Shoes 


“Tell you what I ’ll do,” said Billy. “I ’ll 
give you five dollars and the mouth-organ, 
and I won’t give you a cent more.” 

“Take the car,” said Eddy. 

Billy laid down three more dollars, drew 
the mouth-organ from another pocket, added 
it to the money, and strutted over to the car. 
He pulled the library book from still another 
pocket and crawled under the old-timer. 

An hour later Billy came out from under, 
brushed himself off, and sang out to Eddy, 
“I ’ll be back in a little while.” 

“You’d better get that car out of our barn,” 
said Eddy. “We don’t want it cluttered up 
with a lot of old junk.” 

“Junk!” cried Billy. “Why that carbu¬ 
retor alone is worth ten dollars. They don’t 
make that kind any more.” He walked down 
to Stormville’s garage and consulted with his 
prize friend, Mike O’Dowd, aged sixteen, 
who had been for four years at the garage. 

On hearing Billy’s troubles Mike vouch¬ 
safed : “Oh, I know that bus. I’ve worked 
on it.” He remembered having washed it. 
“What’d you pay for it?” he asked. Billy 


Introduces W. Clintock & Co.> Inc . 33 

told him. “Well, you paid four ninety-nine 
too much,” said Mike; “and next time you 
buy a car you ask me about it first.” How¬ 
ever, he agreed for friendship’s sake to take 
a look at the car that afternoon, and try to get 
Billy out of the mess he had got into. On 
Mike’s recommendation Billy parted with 
seventy-five cents for two gallons of gasolene 
and a quart of oil. 

Billy, at the bursting-point, went home to a 
late dinner. He got a warm welcome—from 
Napoleon, who, by making himself flat, some¬ 
how slid into the house and sat beside Billy 
while he ate his cold meal. 

“What have you been up to?” demanded 
Jimmy. 

“Buying an automobile,” answered Billy, 
between gulps . 

“Now, don’t you get fresh with me,” warned 
Jimmy, who had spent his first morning at the 
cannery office and was not in a pleasant mood. 
“Get away from my shoes, you miserable 
pup,” he roared at Napolean, who liked 
nothing better than a good chew of leather. 

“Napoleon, come here,” ordered Billy. 


34 Uncle James Shoes 

“Don’t you touch that beastly blacking. It ’ll 
make you sick.” 

Jimmy searched for something to say that 
would give him the upper hand in the conver¬ 
sation. “You’d better row that boat around 
to Uncle James’s or he ’ll be in your wool,” he 
flung out. 

“That boat’s sold,” said Billy. 

“Sold! Mama! Come here!” Euphemia 
appeared at the dining-room door, a bundle of 
wet knives and forks held in a dish-towel 
in her hands. “Billy’s sold Uncle James’s 
boat,” announced Jimmy. 

“You were right there when he gave me that 
boat, and you know very well it was mine,” 
said Billy hotly. 

“Billy Clintock,” ordered Euphemia, “you 
go and get that boat this afternoon and take 
it right over to Uncle James. I don’t care 
whether he gave it to you or whether he 
did n’t. He wants it back, and it’s his boat.” 

“If Uncle James wants that boat he can go 
and get it from Mr. Brown,” said Billy, ris¬ 
ing and folding up his napkin at arm’s length. 

“Nice way you’re bringing up that kid!” 


Introduces W. Clintock & Co., Inc. 35 

exploded Jimmy. “Nothing’ll be safe 
around this town any more.” 

“Well, I Ve got business to attend to,” said 
Billy. “Come on, Napoleon,” and he walked 
out, Napoleon prancing around him. 

Mike and Billy spent the afternoon work¬ 
ing over the car. Finally, to Billy’s breath¬ 
less joy, it rolled out of the barn under its 
own power. Through the streets of Storm- 
ville it went, and a little way into the country, 
with Mike at the wheel and Billy beside him, 
holding his breath. Pointing out that author¬ 
itative instruction made all the difference in 
after-life, Mike taught Billy to drive. Billy 
took to it like a duck to water. So did Napo¬ 
leon, who kept up such a continuous barking 
that he took the place of the horn on the tally- 
ho. The fact that Billy Clintock had an 
automobile was well advertised in Stormville 
and its environs. 

On the way back Billy sighted his two 
second cousins, Henrietta and Wilhelmina. 
They were fluffy little girls of his own age, 
given to giggling and.whispering. Billy had 
no particular love for them, but he drew up at 


36 Uncle James Shoes 

the curb and invited them to come for a ride, 
with something of a flourish. 

“My goodness, Billy,” giggled Wilhelmina, 
the leader, “do you think we ’d go out in that 
old thing?” 

Billy pushed down his hand-brake and left 
them without a word. When he reached 
home he saw Uncle James and Jimmy just 
entering the house. Billy drove slowly to 
the barn and stopped. He got down and 
opened the barn doors. Uncle James and 
Jimmy walked up to Billy, Euphemia, who 
had caught sight of them, hurrying after. 

“I hear you sold my boat,” thundered 
Uncle James. 

“Your boat? I sold my boat,” said Billy. 
“And I got this car with part of the money.” 

“You ’ll find that car has cost you more 
than you think,” roared Uncle James. “A 
boy that would steal a boat—” 

Billy whirled round. “If you say I stole 
that boat again I ’ll make you prove it!” he 
flared. “I saw a lawyer to-day.” 

Uncle James looked startled. “I’m not 



Introduces W. Clintock & Co ., Inc. 37 

going to say anything more about it,” he said. 
“But don’t ever expect a cent from me. I’m 
through with you.” He turned on his heel 
and waddled away. Napoleon barked at the 
retreating figure, wagging his tail furiously 
at the same time. 

“Billy Clintock!” cried Euphemia. “See 
what you’ve done! You’ve not only ruined 
yourself, you might ruin the whole family! 
And don’t think for a moment we ’re going 
to let you keep that car in the barn—” 

William Clintock, coming home from work, 
walked up to the car with mild curiosity. 
“What have you got there, Billy?” he asked. 

“Papa, can I keep this car in the barn?” 
demanded Billy. 

“Why, yes, if you can get it in,” agreed his 
father. “Will it run?” 

“I ’ll take you out for a ride to-morrow,” 
said Billy, by way of answer. 

“Have n’t you any sense, William?” cried 
his wife. “I’ve told Billy he can’t keep the 
car. He bought it with the money he got 
from selling James’s boat?” 


38 Uncle James Shoes 

“You did n’t get much for the boat, did 
you, Billy?” observed William Clintock. 

“I can keep it, can’t I?” demanded Billy. 

“No!” cried his mother. “Billy’s trying to 
ruin the whole family, and you, like a fool, 
stand up for him. If it was n’t for you I’d 
be in Europe now—” 

The words had a familiar sound. William 
Clintock turned to go, drawing the newspaper 
from his pocket. But before he went he re¬ 
marked gently, “Well, I guess we ’ll let the 
car stay.” It was the first time in years he 
had taken a stand against his wife. 

And so Billy and his car became familiar 
sights in the streets of Stormville. It was in 
the days before such formalities as licenses for 
drivers had been thought of. After a few days 
Billy decided to start a bus-line between the 
station and the inn where summer people 
stayed; but business was dull, especially after 
several of his patrons had finished the trip on 
foot. The cost of gasolene curtailed pleasure- 
trips, except when Billy’s crowd rented the 
car and Billy’s services at enough to pay for 
gasolene and oil. 


Introduces W . Clintock & Co., Inc . 39 

Jimmy’s attitude toward the car was deri¬ 
sive. He referred to it as the rat-trap, and 
spread tales about it around town. One 
of these tales was overheard by a stranger, 
with interesting consequences. 

Billy was in the barn one day, painting a 
bookcase, when a stranger appeared at the 
door. He seemed to be a man of assurance, 
and he smoked a large cigar. Said he: “I 
hear you’ve got an old car around here. 
Want to sell it, Bub?” 

Billy recovered enough to say: “Well, I 
don’t know. It’s a pretty good car.” And 
he led the way to his treasure. 

“Will it run?” asked the man. 

“How far do you want to go?” asked Billy 
tentatively. 

“A hundred feet ’ll be all right,” answered 
the man unexpectedly. He looked over the 
car with deep interest. Billy was surprised. 
He did not seem like the kind that would 
want such an old car. “I ’ll give you twenty- 
five dollars for it, Bub,” he said suddenly, 
and pulled the money from his pocket. Billy 
accepted it in a daze. 


40 


Uncle James Shoes 


“Will you run it down for me?” asked the 
man. “Take it to the new cinematograph 
studio out on the sea road.” 

“I ’ll take it right over there now,” agreed 
Billy. “Do you want to ride in it?” 

“No, thank you,” said the man emphati¬ 
cally, adding: “I’ve got to hurry. I’ll 
walk.” 

Next day Billy again went over his ac¬ 
counts. They stood: 

ASSETS 

Cash [His bus-line had more than covered 

his gasolene expenses.] .$43.52 

i bicycle [Billy looked over the wheel and 

again put it down at]... 10.00 

i lawn-mower [Billy had not been able to 

dispose of that and so he reduced it to] 2.50 

1 bookcase . .,. ... . . ... . . .. 2.00 

Packing boxes ..45 

1 sled [it was still summer].10 

Skates ...... .,. .... . ... ... .1. .. 1.00 


Total 


59-55 









Introduces W. Clintock & Co., Inc. 41 

LIABILITIES 

[Billy did not know what liabilities were, but he 
had looked over a bookkeeping manual and found 
that they were an essential part of accounts.] 
i busted window that I Ve got to fix 50 cents 

The liabilities being deducted from the as¬ 
sets, Billy discovered that he was worth 
$59.05. 


CHAPTER III 


UNCLE JAMES’S HEALTH CONTINUES TO 

BE EXCELLENT 

LTHOUGH Billy remained in the 



Clintock family group, he was no 


-A* JL longer one of them. He appeared 
at meal-times, bringing with him a first-rate 
appetite, but disappeared immediately after¬ 
ward. Usually he went to the barn and 
tinkered with this and that. At fourteen, he 
even moved his room to the barn, glory¬ 
ing in his plain wood walls and quiet. 
Euphemia decided that Billy was “queer.” 
He was, she reluctantly admitted, not a Peters. 
He was not even mild and inoffensive, like 
his father. There was in him what she de¬ 
scribed as a “cantankerous” streak. He and 
Jimmy did not get along very well, but they 
seldom saw each other except at meals. 

Jimmy grew up in his uncle’s business. At 


42 


Uncle James s Health 


43 


twenty-two he was where he should have been 
at sixteen, scraping along on twelve dollars 
a week, and heartily wishing that Uncle 
James’s end would come soon. In Uncle 
James’s presence he was respectful, almost 
self-effacing. Behind his back he clenched 
his hands and swore revenge. If only he had 
not been desperately afraid of being left out 
of Uncle James’s will, he would have wiped 
the dust of Stormville from his feet and made 
for New York long before, but he had fol¬ 
lowed the gleam of Uncle James’s wealth too 
long to forsake it now that Uncle James was 
growing pleasantly older and obviously nearer 
the grave. So Jimmy contented himself 
with making the best figure he could in 
Stormville, pressing his clothes at night in his 
mother’s kitchen and showing Euphemia how 
to remake a necktie by turning it inside out. 
He went in for respectability, frequenting 
Stormville’s most substantial houses and re¬ 
lieving the boredom of life by a few unfastid- 
ious affairs with one or two of the less respect¬ 
able girls who worked at the cannery. 

At nineteen Billy was coldly scornful of 


44 


Uncle James Shoes 


his brother, and quite as scornful, though a 
little more warmly, of his mother. His sister 
Martha he found a good plain girl with better 
common sense and sounder character than 
Jimmy or Euphemia, but without the force 
to break away from the family obsession, 
Uncle James. Under her uncle’s guidance 
Martha had studied stenography and gone 
into the office of the cannery, where she was 
getting all of eight dollars a week. Jimmy 
kept away from her as much as possible. He 
did not feel that this chunky, solid girl who 
worked in an office was any particular credit 
to him. As for Billy, he was a positive dis¬ 
grace. Jimmy was rather glad of that, but 
Euphemia never failed to grieve over the 
errors of her younger son. And the bitter 
part of it was that Billy, with his admirable 
physique and good looks, might have been a 
real Clintock asset. As it was, he was noth¬ 
ing but a mechanic, fussing all day over old 
automobiles and old motor-boats that he 
bought in the autumn from the summer people 
and sold back to them in the spring. Billy 


Uncle James s Health 45 

had proved utterly unworthy of his Peters an¬ 
cestry. 

Billy’s father had given up all interest in 
his own personal problems by the time Billy 
was nineteen. He would ponder on the ques¬ 
tion of the world’s fuel supply and let the fire 
go out. He thought more about the finances 
of the railways than about his own finances. 
His slippers and the newspaper were all 
that William asked from life. When he 
tried, infrequently, to look back and see if he 
had made the most of his talents, he grew a 
little confused, told himself that he had done 
the best he could, and stopped thinking about 
it. After all, Jimmy and Martha were pretty 
sure to inherit a big slice of Uncle James’s 
money—perhaps all of it if those beastly 
children of Bessie’s would break their necks 
—and, as for Billy, he seemed pretty well 
able to take care of himself. He was not go¬ 
ing to amount to a lot, of course, but, after 
all, it did not much matter. He would prob¬ 
ably be able to afford slippers and the news¬ 
paper by the time he reached old age. Once 




46 Uncle James Shoes 

in a while William Clintock would shuffle 
out to the barn and sit and watch Billy’s 
strong fingers cut and saw and mend. Billy 
was not slipshod about anything. He meas¬ 
ured everything to the hair, cut things clean, 
fitted them neatly. His father could not help 
admiring Billy. Billy reminded him of his 
own dimly remembered grandfather, old 
'Silas Clintock, who had been a builder and 
left scores of well built houses around Storm- 
ville as monuments to his professional in¬ 
tegrity. Billy always liked to hear about 
old Silas. 

Billy seemed to have acquired a good many 
contraptions during the last few years. He 
had a good lathe over in the corner, and some 
good-looking tools. After all Billy was a 
smart boy. And he was generous—made his 
mother a big allowance for his board. It 
must be taking about all the boy made. 

Billy had grown into a tall, silent youth. 
His hair was dark and thick, his eyes brown, 
his eyelashes long and dark. His features 
were not bad. When he smiled he was some¬ 
thing of a stunner. His smile came suddenly, 


Uncle James s Health 47 

like sunlight bursting from behind a cloud. 
He had good clear color, good teeth, and a 
sound body. He looked happy enough, but 
not any too happy. Billy got along all right, 
but sometimes he felt lonely. 

Cousin Bessie’s children continued to be 
the thorn in the Clintock flesh. Randolph, 
Henrietta, and Wilhelmina pestered Euphe- 
mia as Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar pestered 
Job. At times Euphemia felt that she would 
like to curse Uncle James and die, but she 
clung on. The worst of it was that Bessie 
had gone her one better. She had stuck like 
a burr to James without sacrificing her chil¬ 
dren on his altar, as Euphemia had. Standing 
before her mirror as she did her hair, Euphe¬ 
mia went over the situation each morning. 
On the days when her pale reddish hair 
was done into a hard round knot, it could 
have been deduced that Bessie had put one 
over on her. As time went on Euphemia’s 
hair became more strained and tightened, 
and her mouth as it held the hair-pins seemed 
like a steel trap. The fact that Euphemia 
saw herself in the glass each morning as she 


48 


Uncle James Shoes 


thought of Bessie, saw herself growing old 
and bitter, increased her fury. For every 
new wrinkle she held Bessie responsible, 
Bessie who was still softly plump, and whose 
voice had a caressing quality that the aver¬ 
age weak-minded man could not resist. “And 
Lord knows,” thought Euphemia, “James is 
weak-minded!” 

Henrietta and Wilhelmina had grown up 
plump and golden like their mother. They 
had pretty, pointed chins and dimpled pink 
cheeks. Randolph was no beauty, but he had 
distinction—and brains. Of course Billy had 
brains, too, but he did not know how to use 
them. 

Randolph had had sense enough to stay out 
of Uncle James’s business. He had gone 
through college, specializing in mathematics, 
and had been wily enough, Euphemia thought, 
to keep on the right side of Uncle James while 
he kept out of his business. Randolph had 
kept on going up until he had become an as¬ 
sistant professor in astronomy in an Eastern 
college. He was far enough away from 
Uncle James to keep from quarreling with 



Uncle James s Health 


49 


him, but near enough to come home during 
the summer holidays and make himself thick 
with his mighty relative. Randolph had 
adopted a great many new-fangled ideas in 
college, but he had sense enough not to let 
Uncle James know it. And so Uncle James 
—JBessie’s children always called him Uncle 
instead of Cousin, thereby infringing on the 
one right Euphemia’s children had left— 
Uncle James admired Randolph, even looked 
up to him. Randolph threw off a certain im¬ 
pression of careless grace that hypnotized 
Stormville. He was what Jimmy tried to be, 
and more; for Jimmy’s aspirations never went 
beyond clothes and parlor graces, while Ran¬ 
dolph was gaining a country-wide reputation 
for his brilliant astronomical studies. 

Henrietta and Wilhelmina had not studied 
stenography and gone into the office of the 
cannery. Not much! While poor Martha 
was grinding away in the heat of the summer 
with the smell of fish eternally sickening her, 
she would see Henrietta and Wilhelmina go 
sailing by in one of the dashing little run¬ 
abouts that the city boys brought up to Storm- 



50 


Uncle James Shoes 


ville. And, instead of being disgusted with 
them, Uncle James seemed only to admire 
them the more for being such fetching little 
things. He had never even suggested that 
they study stenography. Bessie had hinted 
at Etta’s delicate heart and Mina’s nervous¬ 
ness when the time had come when it might 
be supposed that the girls would earn their 
bread. It was only when she felt that James 
had become adjusted to the idea that his little 
cousins were only meant for ornament that 
Bessie quietly permitted Etta’s heart to im¬ 
prove, and did away with Mina’s nerves. 
However, she was always ready to bring them 
back at a moment’s notice. But it turned out 
that Uncle James never talked office work to 
the girls at all. As a matter of fact, he 
was proud of the dashing little beauties, 
and fatly pleased to squeeze their plump 
little arms and accept their tempestuous 
kisses. 

All his life James had been a bachelor, 
technically speaking. And when Euphemia 
was not thinking about Bessie’s little wretches 
she was flaying herself with the thought that 


Uncle Jamess Health 


51 


James might get married. Indeed, on this 
point Euphemia and Bessie were united. 
Whenever a potential sister-in-law appeared 
in Stormville Euphemia would twist up her 
hair like a knot of rope and dash over to 
Bessie’s, there to lay plans to foil the design¬ 
ing woman who had her eye on dear James. 
And Euphemia would make transparent 
efforts to undermine the adventuress, calling 
James’s attention to her evil designs, while 
Bessie, with her greater diplomacy, would 
show up the snake in the grass by innocently 
remarking on its beautiful scales and in¬ 
teresting capacity for wriggling. And, all 
unwitting, James would have his fat hand 
unclasped from his prize and his attention 
gently turned in another direction. She was 
a masterly woman, Bessie. 

Of course Euphemia and Bessie were quite 
right in supposing that any one who was will¬ 
ing to marry James was after his money. 
No one could possibly want to marry him 
for himself. At sixty his fat had become 
flabby, his hair so thin that he could scarcely 
part it, his face had sagged, his teeth turned 


52 


Uncle James Shoes 


brown, and his eyes grown small and sharp. 
If he had ever studied himself impartially 
he might have wondered a little at the devo¬ 
tion he aroused in Henrietta and Wilhelmina. 
He might have doubted their statements that 
he was the dearest thing in the world, and a 
perfect angel, and wondered why it was that 
they were so ready to leave an evening of 
beaus and mandolins on the pier to sit on 
Uncle James’s piazza and hear him tell how 
he had undersold Wilson of Bridgewater and 
put him out of business. And when he kissed 
them good night, the little warm perfumed 
things, he might, had he realized what manner 
of man he was, have noticed that they had to 
steel themselves to endure and return his 
caresses. But that was only at first. After 
a few summers of moonlight and mandolins, 
Henrietta and Wilhelmina grew less fastid¬ 
ious and gave themselves up to anybody’s kiss 
like ascetics who had changed their philos¬ 
ophy and decided to wallow in luxury. Their 
mother did not know it, of course. She had 
acted in the same way when she was young, 
but it never occurred to her that her daugh- 


Uncle James s Health 53 

ters’ dainty white slippers were tracing her 
footsteps. 

Uncle James’s visits to the Clintocks be¬ 
came more and more infrequent. There was 
nothing to lure him there except lemon-pies, 
and he could get those elsewhere. Euphe- 
mia’s voice did not caress him when she 
spoke to him, though she tried hard to make 
it. Jimmy was a nincompoop and a source 
of irritation to James, because James knew 
that Jimmy’s salary was unreasonably low. 
Martha was a lump, who knew nothing out¬ 
side the business and too much of that to make 
her uncle feel entirely comfortable. She 
never said anything, but sometimes she would 
look at her uncle with her large cow-like eyes 
as though she did not entirely approve of him. 
Of course William was a stick and of no in¬ 
terest to James, and, as for Billy, he was the 
worst of the lot, an out-and-out rebel. Uncle 
James grew to hate Billy as vindictively as 
Billy hated him. 

It was after one of Uncle James’s infrequent 
visits that Billy got to talking to Martha as 
he helped her dry the dishes. Euphemia 


54 


Uncle James Shoes 


had gone to bed with a sick headache, the in¬ 
variable finale of an evening with her brother. 
Jimmy had dutifully walked home with his 
uncle, and William Clintock had relapsed into 
a peaceful sleep before the fire with he re¬ 
laxation of one who had gone through an un¬ 
avoidable ordeal and earned repose. 

“What do you think of Uncle James?” 
asked Billy suddenly, polishing off a platter. 

Martha hesitated before she answered. 
Pier years at the office had made caution a 
habit. Billy was all the more surprised, then, 
when after her hesitation she burst out with 
“I hate him!” 

“Well, then,” said Billy, “why on earth do 
you work for him?” 

“What’s the use of pretending?” shrugged 
Martha. “I work for him because I’m 
hoping he ’ll leave me his money some day. 
You know that as well as I do.” 

“Martha,” said Billy, “it does n’t pay, this 
business of waiting around for somebody to 
leave this earth. Why, I waited two years 
for that fool Simmons to run his motor-boat 
on a rock so’s I could buy it cheap. And 


Uncle Jamess Health 55 

what did he do? He ran it on a rock in mid¬ 
ocean, and it was sunk, and the only thing 
that was saved was Simmons. Well, I was 
glad of that, anyway. I sold him the boat I 
bought from him three years before. He 
did n’t even know it was the same boat.” 

“I’m not going to waste all my years of 
work at this late date,” said Martha sullenly. 

Billy looked closely at his sister as he would 
have looked at a motor-boat that some one 
wanted him to buy. He had lived alone so 
much that he had never known Martha well. 
Now she appeared to him in a new light. 
Martha was not so bad after all. If she could 
be done over, repaired, put in shape— 

“Martha,” he said, “you ’re on the wrong 
track. You ’re in the clutch of the family 
curse. The Uncle James idea has hypnotized 
this family so much that we never stop and 
think where we ’re going.” 

“I know where I’m going, all right,” said 
Martha bitterly. “I told you exactly why I 
was working for Uncle James at nothing a 
week. I did n’t try to hedge.” 

Billy changed his tactics. “Martha,” he 



56 


Uncle James Shoes 


said, “you ’re not so bad looking.” It was a 
pretty strong compliment for Billy, but he felt 
that the occasion required it. 

Martha laughed, but she seemed softened. 
A smile touched her lips for a second as 
though she were remembering something. 
But it left instantly. “You don’t suppose,” 
she said, “that after waiting for Uncle James 
to die all these years I’m going to give up 
now that he’s all ready for the grave?” 

Billy flinched a little, but he said cheer¬ 
fully: “You ’re frank; I ’ll say that for you. 
Strange that these thoughts should go on be¬ 
hind your passive exterior. I always thought 
you were simply under the curse and did n’t 
think anything about it.” He looked her 
over again. “What you need,” he said, “is 
plenty of tennis and a nice new red dress and 

and—a lover. That would make a new 
girl of you.” 

Martha laughed catchily. “A red dress in 
[Uncle James’s office! He’d throw a fit! 
Wilhelmina and Henrietta can come into the 
office all dolled up with bright green parasols 
and roses in their hats, and he pats their hands 



Uncle James s Health 57 

by the hour and calls them his little darlings; 
but I’m not supposed to be anything but a 
machine. He raised the roof because—be¬ 
cause—I wore a red girdle on my serge dress 
and I had to—had to—” She broke down 
sobbing. 

Billy clenched his fists. “Martha,” he 
roared, “if you don’t get out that red trimming 
and wear it to-morrow I ’ll go around and 
choke Uncle James. Yes, I will! Take 
your choice!” 

Martha laughed through her tears. “Is 
that your idea of a threat?” she gurgled. 
“You can boil him in oil for all I care.” 

Again Billy contemplated his sister. 
Martha seemed to have more in her than he 
had supposed. “Look here, Martha,” he 
urged, “give up that rotten job and go away 
to Boston or New York or somewhere and 
begin to live. This business of waiting for 
some one to die and leave you their money is 
the biggest fake proposition that was ever in¬ 
vented. Here you are, here the whole lot of 
the Clintocks and Cousin Bessie’s kids, too, 
are, sitting around like vultures waiting for 


58 


Uncle James Shoes 


Uncle James to die. It’s not dignified, 
Martha. We ’re all ordinary, healthy human 
beings, and we ought to be living our own 
lives and making our own money instead of 
kowtowing to a beastly old reprobate and giv¬ 
ing up our lives—our entire lives—to doing 
the fool things he wants us to do. You and 
Jimmy would be ’way along this day if it 
hadn’t been for Uncle James. And Cousin 
Bessie’s kids might be real women instead of 
damned little flirts if they’d ever been given 
any idea of hustling for their money instead 
of picking it off Uncle James’s corpse. 
Martha, this whole family ought to be re¬ 
paired and set straight, and you ’re the one to 
begin on. Won’t you be a real woman and 
shake your fist in Uncle James’s face?” 

“But there’s Mother,” sighed Martha. 
“She’s given up her whole life to getting us 
in with Uncle James and Cousin Bessie’s 
children out. You’ve been a disappoint¬ 
ment to her; she feels you’ve wasted your op¬ 
portunities, and she’s afraid Jimmy isn’t as 
thick with Uncle James as he was, and she’s 
pinning all her hopes on me. I don’t want to 



Uncle James s Health 


59 


disappoint her at the last minute when she ’s 
worked so hard all these years and given up 
her life to the one idea of making us com¬ 
fortable in the future.” 

“Martha,” said Billy grimly, “I want to 
ask you this: if you ’d known when you were 
fifteen that at twenty-one you’d still be work¬ 
ing for a song at the cannery and Uncle James 
would still be alive and healthy, would you 
have started in?” 

“No, I don’t suppose I would have,” 
admitted Martha. 

“And now think of yourself six years from 
now, at twenty-seven, still slaving away there 
on the merry hope that Uncle James is going 
to die. That’s what you ’ll be doing, as like 
as not. Uncle James is vicious enough to 
live for ever. By twenty-seven you ’ll have 
lost twice as much in salary as Uncle James 
will ever leave you if he leaves you anything 
at all, and you ’ll be old and crotchety and 
unmarried. For the love of Heaven, give it 
up, Martha. I bet you’d be married to-day 
if it hadn’t been for Uncle James’s delayed 
departure.” 


60 


Uncle James Shoes 


The color slowly came into Martha’s face. 
“Billy,” she said, “if I tell you something, 
will you swear you’ll never tell?” Billy 
promised. “There’s some one now,” said 
Martha, “who wants to marry me.” 

“Well, I never!” was Billy’s uncomplimen¬ 
tary reception of the news. “Who is it?” 

“Paul Street—the boss in the cannery.” 

“Good!” cried Billy. “He’s all right. I 
always liked that chap. He’s got a good 
head for business, too.” 

“But, Billy,” protested Martha, “I could 
n’t possibly marry him. He’s not in our 
class.” 

“He’s in mine,” said Billy stoutly, “if he 
would n’t think me presumptuous to say so.” 

“Billy,” said Martha, with something of 
her mother’s accent. “You know grand¬ 
father—” 

“Was a Peters,” said Billy solemnly. 

“Well,” Martha went on, “I could n’t 
marry him, anyhow. He’s going to leave 
the cannery and start one of his own because 
he can’t stand Uncle James. Uncle James 
will be furious. If I should marry Paul,” 



Uncle James’s Health 


61 


she ended solemnly, “Uncle James wouldn’t 

leave us a cent when he dies.” 

• % 

“When that blessed day comes,” said Billy 
dramatically, “your brother may be twice a 
millionaire. Transfer your obsession to me, 
Martha. Let Uncle James die in peace and 
spend your time calculating how much longer 
I’ve got to live.” 

“Billy, you ’re horrid,” said Martha. 

“Martha, you ’re a half-baked idiot,” said 
Billy. “You pin that red business Uncle 
James objected to on your dress to-morrow 
and come back engaged to Paul. Do you 
hear?” 


CHAPTER IV 


BILLY RESCUES A BASKET—AND A LADY 

T HAT car is as good to-day as when it 
left the factory. I Ve been over 
every inch of it, and I Ve put it in 
perfect shape. It was bought originally at 
eight hundred dollars, and it’s worth five 
hundred to-day at the very least. The man 
who sold it to me practically chucked it away 
rather than take the trouble to get it into 
shape. All it needed was new piston-rings 
and the carbon removed and a few little 
things like that. I ’ll guarantee that car, Mr. 
Willing, just as if it were a new car, and 
if you have any trouble with it this sum¬ 
mer due to faulty workmanship I ’ll repair 
it free and give you a new part if it’s 
needed.” 

The prospect walked around the car. “It 

looks all right to me,” he admitted, “but I 

62 


Billy Rescues a Basket 63 

must confess I don’t know much about cars. 
Do you want to take my old car in part pay¬ 
ment?” 

“I’m interested in anything on wheels, 
Mr. Willing,” said Billy. “I ’ll be glad to 
take it home with me and look it over if you 
like, and I ’ll leave this car here while 
you ’re deciding whether you want it.” 
Willing agreed, and Billy marked down 
another sale to his credit. He knew Willing 
was going to take that car, and he was getting 
a bargain, too. 

“I say—er—Clintock,” Mr. Willing called, 
as Billy started the engine of Willing’s old 
car. “I’m looking for a little motor-boat— 
not anything very expensive. Think you can 
fix me up?” 

“I should n’t wonder, Mr. Willing,” 
drawled Billy, thinking over his present line 
of boats. “Now, there’s one little humdinger 
I got hold of last year that ought to suit you. 
I ’ll bring her over in the morning.” Billy 
moved off, his mind on the boat. He had had 
a good week, one of his best. He had sold 
three cars and two motor-boats without count- 




64 


Uncle James Shoes 


ing the ones Mr. Willing was going to buy. 
In each case he had sold at more than ioo per 
cent, profit, and, at that, he had given generous 
value. Billy’s resources were getting sizable, 
but his bank-account was small. He never 
let his money lie idle. Virtually all of it was 
invested, and some of his investments were 
doing nobly. The family did not know of 
Billy’s flourishing financial condition, and 
Billy decided that it was just as well. As it 
was, all the money he gave his mother for 
board seemed to go for Christmas and birth¬ 
day presents for Uncle James. As for Jimmy 
and Martha, it was better for them not to 
count on another rich relation. Billy did not 
want to be a second Uncle James. 

Martha had not said anything to Billy 
about Paul Street since their talk over the 
dishes, but one evening she had whispered 
hurriedly: “Billy, I think you were right. 
I’m not doing anything for the moment, but 
there’s going to be an explosion soon.” 
Billy had no qualms over the advice he had 
given her. He knew that it was sound, that 
whether or not they lost by it financially the 


65 


Billy Rescues a Basket 

family ought to break away from their undig¬ 
nified subservience to Uncle James. 

Billy turned Willing’s car out of town into 
one of the country roads. There was a 
farmer up at Chestnut Lands, he understood, 
who wanted some kind of a second-hand car. 
He’d better find out about it. 

He bumped over the rough country roads. 
What a state they were ini He’d like to 
go in for mending roads. He was glad he 
had invested in that road-material company. 
There were enough poor roads in the country 
to keep them busy a million years. Uncon¬ 
sciously, as he went along, he listened to the 
heavy breathing of the engine, the sound of 
the fan, the squeaks in the body. He was 
absent-mindedly diagnosing his patient. 

A sharp cry broke through the sounds of 
the car. Some one was calling for help ahead 
of him. Billy shot on the gas. Again the 
cry came, at his side now. The view was cut 
off by bushes. The car slid to a standstill, 
and Billy leapt out. He ran to a clear place 
in the fence. 

So steeled for battle was Billy that when he 


66 


Uncle James Shoes 


saw what was up he leaned over the fence 
and in his reaction roared with laughter. It 
was the fatally wrong course. Persis did not 
mind being laughed at under ordinary cir¬ 
cumstances, but when she was up a tree with 
a bull pawing the ground beneath her the 
laughter of a strange young man at the other 
side of the fence struck her as inopportune. 

“Why don’t you do something?” she cried 
indignantly. Billy immediately did some¬ 
thing. He had stopped laughing, and his 
expression had changed, but not because of 
the treed lady’s reproof. What he did—and 
again it was quite the wrong thing—was to 
leap over the fence and, in imminent danger 
of attracting the bull’s attention, speed to a 
camera and basket that had evidently been 
discarded by the imperiled lady in her preci¬ 
pitous flight. Billy brought them back to the 
fence and safety. Yes, it was quite the wrong 
thing to do. Persis, having followed his 
actions with lively interest, now commented 
upon them with heat. 

“Well,, of all idiotic things!” she ex- 




Billy Rescues a Basket 67 

claimed. “What in the name of common 
sense did you do that for?” 

“It’s a good camera,” said Billy, a little 
indignantly. “The bull might have stepped 
on it.” 

Persis would have stamped her foot if both 
feet had not been dangling in the air. “Go 
and get somebody to come and shoot that 
bull,” she ordered. 

Again Billy was a little indignant. “Shoot 
that bull?” he cried. “Why it’s a good bull. 
It’s worth two hundred and fifty dollars.” 

“A good bull!” cried Persis. “Why he’s 
as vicious as he can be! I did n’t do a thing 
but take a picture of the landscape, and he 
came tearing at me like a cyclone.” 

“Maybe he was just trying to play with 
you,” suggested Billy. Persis would have 
then and there walked away in dignified si¬ 
lence if circumstances had permitted. As it 
was, she inquired whether Billy was going to 
sit there all day. Billy concentrated on the 
basket and—ye gods!—began to mend it. “I 
guess 1 ’ll think of a way to get you down 




68 


Uncle James Shoes 


soon,” he said, “but it’s no use starting any¬ 
thing until you have all your plans ready.” 

“Do you expect me to stay here for a week?” 
demanded Persis. “It’s perfectly clear what 
you ought to do. Take the bull away!” 

“I was just coming to that,” said Billy, and 
was surprised to hear himself add, “only then 
I would n’t have a chance to talk to you any 
longer.” 

“Look here,” said the girl, “ will you go and 
telephone Mr. Randolph Kelsey? He ’ll get 
me down.” 

Billy stopped fooling in a hurry. She was 
asking for Cousin Bessie’s Randolph! Billy 
had not been brought up in rivalry to Cousin 
Bessie’s children without getting some of it 
into his system. He’d show her he could be 
as good a knight errant as Randolph! He 
picked up a stick, jumped over the fence, and 
rushed at the bull. He knew that bull, and 
it was not particularly vicious. If the girl 
had not been wearing a red dress the bull 
probably would not have chased her. The 
bull gave way a few feet, and Billy followed 
up his attack with a stone or two. The bull 


69 


Billy Rescues a Basket 

galloped away for several yards and turned 
again, his head lowered, his hoofs pawing the 
grass. 

“Beat it for the fence next time he turns 
his back,” yelled Billy as he passed the tree. 
Again he got the bull on the run. He heard 
the girl scrambling down from the tree. 
Turning his head quickly, he saw that she had 
almost reached the fence. He sent one more 
stone after the bull for good measure, and 
turned and ran. 

It seemed only a second before he heard 
the bull snorting behind him, encouraged 
by the enemy’s retreat. If Billy had not 
stumbled on the rough ground he would 
have had plenty of time to reach the fence. 
As it was, the bull was almost upon him when 
he scrambled up. The fence was a good ten 
yards away. Billy swerved suddenly and 
jumped for the low branches of the tree the 
girl had just left. He swung himself up and 
sat panting in the branches. 

That certainly was a giggle coming from 
the other side of the fence. Yes, the girl in 
red was laughing at him! In a second 


70 


Uncle James Shoes 


Billy’s breath came back to him. “How do 
you happen to know Randolph Kelsey?” he 
asked, as though there had been no interrup¬ 
tion in the conversation. 

“Through Uncle James Peters,” answered 
the girl. 

Only the peril below kept Billy from fall¬ 
ing from the tree. “Don’t tell me you ’re a 
victim to the Uncle James idea!” he cried, 
adding solemnly: “How does James Peters 
happen to be your uncle when he’s mine, 
too? Are you my long lost sister?” 

The girl shook her head. “He is n’t really 
my uncle,” she explained, “but Father wants 
me to call him that.” 

“I see,” said Billy darkly, “your father 
will be glad to know that Uncle James is in 
the best of health, hale and hearty—good for 
twenty years. You ’re not thinking of going 
into Uncle James’s office, are you?” 

“Of course not,” returned the girl. “I’m 
not so crazy over Mr. Peters as you seem to 
be.” 

“I’ve got to come down and shake hands 


71 


Billy Rescues a Basket 

with you for that,” said Billy. The bull had 
begun to eat grass as though the conversation 
bored him. “Walk, don’t run, to the nearest 
exit,” murmured Billy, as he let himself 
down and walked mechanically to the fence. 
The bull seemed to have lost interest in Billy. 
He looked up tentatively but went back to his 
grass. 

Billy climbed the fence and held out 
his hand. “I’m Billy Clintock,” he said. 
“May I take you home in the machine?” 
The girl put her hand in his big palm. 
“Thanks awfully for saving my life,” she 
said. “My name’s Persis Hamilton. Yes, 
do take me home. We ’re staying at the inn.” 

He helped her into the car and put the 
camera and basket on the floor. “I ’ll take 
you around by the shore road,” he suggested. 
It was several miles longer, but the girl did 
not object. “Do you live here?” she asked. 

“Very much so,” assented Billy. “I’ve 
always lived here.” He became silent, sud¬ 
denly shy. He had not been afraid of the girl 
before, but she seemed more remote here 


72 


Uncle James Shoes 


beside him than she had been when she was up 
the tree. She was a little blue-eyed slip of a 
thing, slight, but not fragile. Her face was 
delicately square, her mouth inclined to be 
firm, her eyes not incapable of provocative 
glances. She had undulating hair, fair but 
darkened by shadows. Altogether she was 
a little beauty. Billy stepped on the gas. 
Why had he let himself in for the shore road? 
He could not handle a situation like this. 
Why, the girl was a nine days’ wonder. 

Billy had never known a girl well. There 
had been plenty of them at high school, but 
not one had stirred him. Since he had 
left school he had been too busy to bother 
with girls, anyhow. Suddenly he felt that 
he’d like to kiss this girl and then die. The 
dying seemed necessary because he could 
never survive the embarrassment of the kiss. 
He was not in love with her; how could he be 
when he did not know anything about her? 
She might be selfish, unreasonable, illogical, 
not at all the kind of woman he would ad¬ 
mire. And yet— Billy gave the car more 
gas. 


Billy Rescues a Basket 73 

“You certainly do speed,” remarked the 
girl. 

“I beg your pardon,” stammered Billy, 
slowing down to ten miles. 

“A person of extremes,” murmured Persis. 

“Just what I was thinking,” said Billy, and 
relapsed. 

“Well, if you ’re not going to talk I suppose 
I ’ll have to keep up the conversation,” de¬ 
cided Persis, after a moment’s pause. “Prob¬ 
ably you’d like my impressions of Stormville. 
I find it an unspoiled town of some five 
thousand souls, situated on the picturesque 
shores of Massachusetts. The inhabitants are 
a silent, uncommunicative lot, many of them 
totally dumb. They are not, however, en¬ 
tirely without interest. They may, perhaps, 
be described as strong, silent people. They 
have a passion for salvaging inanimate objects, 
such as baskets and cameras, but take compara¬ 
tively little pleasure in saving human life. 
They have, as a rule, brown eyes, heavy brown 
hair, and long, long, eyelashes—” 

“Look here,” said Billy,“that ’ll do.” 

“All of them,” continued Persis, “are 



74 


Uncle James Shoes 


related to a certain James Peters, the great 
mogul of the town—” 

“And a total loss,” put in Billy. 

“My own opinion precisely,” agreed Persis, 
“but his relatives are worth saving. Randolph 
I find a person of parts.” 

Billy said nothing. 

“He really has brains, you know,” prompted 
Persis, and, as Billy still said nothing, she 
went on: “He’s a professor at the college 
where I’m going this fall. He’s bent on 
my specializing in astronomy. I think I’d 
rather like it.” 

“I don’t know him very well,” was Billy’s 
only comment. “How do you come to be so 
chummy with Uncle James?” 

“He owns about all the stock in Father’s 
tin-mine,” explained Persis. “I imagine 
that’s the chief reason. The others are his 
great personal charm, wit, beauty, all that sort 
of thing.” 

Billy grinned. 

“The statue comes to life,” murmured 
Persis. 

“Look here, Persis,” began Billy. He had 


Billy Rescues a Basket 75 

been saying the name over to himself, and it 
came easily to him. 

“Who told you you could call me that?” 
inquired Persis. 

“Why, I never thought of calling you any¬ 
thing else,” answered Bilfy in surprise. 
“You would n’t have me call you Miss 
Hamilton—a little kid like you? Any more 
than you’d think of calling me Mr. Clintock.” 

“Well, I did think of it,” admitted Persis, 
“but let it be ‘Billy.’ I suppose after the 
mauvais quart d’heure we spent together—” 

Again Billy stepped on the gas. She was a 
city person. What was the use of trying to be 
friends with her? 

Perhaps Persis read his thoughts. “I hope 
I’m going to see more of you,” she said 
humbly. “Would you go so far as to come 
and see me some day soon?” 

“I’m going over to the inn to-morrow to 
take a boat to Mr. Willing,” said Billy. “I 
make most of my money selling boats and cars 
to you city folks.” 

“Take me out in it first, Billy,” begged 
Persis. She had long since successfully con- 



76 


Uncle James Shoes 


quered the inhibitions of convention, like 
most of her generation. 

“All right,” agreed Billy laconically. 

“In other words,” suggested Persis, “noth¬ 
ing would give you greater pleasure?” 

Billy would have been embarrassed at that 
if she had not said it in a way that made them 
seem like intimate friends. He looked down 
at her as though he were about to say some¬ 
thing in kind, but suddenly the touch of 
humor left his face and he merely said super¬ 
fluously, “Well, here ’s the inn.” 

Persis jumped out on the porch. “A 
demain,” she said, but suddenly added, “See 
you to-morrow.” 

“Sure thing,” said Billy as he moved away. 
“Here, don’t forget your things.” He 
stopped the car and handed out the camera 
and basket. 

“I don’t want the basket,” said Persis. 
“It’s an old thing. I was going to throw it 
away, anyhow.” 

Billy looked positively shocked. “Don’t 
you do anything of the kind,” he ordered. 
It’s a good basket—not a thing the matter 


77 


Billy Rescues A Basket 

with it. You ’ll find it ’ll come in useful.” 

Humbly Persis accepted the basket. “I ’ll 
keep empty clam-shells in it,” she murmured 
as she moved away. 


CHAPTER V 


A WORLD OF PEARL 

B ILLY wore his usual costume, brown 
corduroy trousers and a flannel shirt, 
when he appeared at the inn next 
morning. He found Persis on the veranda, 
dressed in a white pleated skirt and soft white 
sweater. Yes, she was as pretty as he remem¬ 
bered her. There were two girls sitting 
beside her. He did not recognize them until 
one of them said somewhat patronizingly, 
“Hello, Billy.” Oh, they were Henrietta 
and Wilhelmina! How different they looked 
from Persis. He had always thought of them 
as the regular city girl type, but, sitting next to 
Persis, they looked suddenly cheap. He had 
a vague feeling that their clothes were not 
quite right. Their white skirts did not fit as 
well as hers, and their shoes had thin high 
heels, while hers had rubber soles. And 
their stockings were slightly wrinkled, while 

78 



79 


A World of Pearl 

hers were taut. Moreover, their blond hair 
stuck out too much over their ears, and their 
very red smiles had no expression. Billy 
wondered why they were considered such 
pretty girls. 

Persis jumped up and stuffed the greenish- 
blue thing she was knitting into a basket, the 
one Billy had rescued the day before. 

“Why, you ’re not going away,” protested 
Wilhelmina in surprise. “We thought we’d 
sit here and talk all morning.” Billy noticed 
that his cousins had no intention of introdu¬ 
cing him to Persis, though they evidently 
thought he had not met her. 

“Randolph’s coming over in a little while,” 
added Henrietta. 

“I’m sorry—I’m awfully sorry to miss 
Randolph,” said Persis, and she seemed to 
mean it. “Tell him to come and see me to¬ 
night, won’t you? He’s been explaining to 
me how the world was created, and he left it 
cooling. I’d like to get it finished. All, 
ready, Billy,” she smiled at him. “I’m 
going out in a boat with Billy,” she explained 
to the girls. “Is he safe?” 



80 Uncle James Shoes 

To Henrietta and Wilhelmina the news 
that Persis was going out in a boat with Billy 
came as a distinct shock. Persis was their 
prize acquaintance, a wealthy girl from the 
city who had been to an expensive boarding- 
school ; and they had been embarrassed when 
their unstylish cousin had appeared on the inn 
piazza. 

“Why, I did n’t know you rented boats, 
Billy,” wondered Henrietta, genuinely inno¬ 
cent. Evidently Persis had hired Billy to 
take her out. But why did n’t she ask them 
to come along? 

“This is Billy’s party,” said Persis hastily, 
coloring a little in embarrassment. “At 
least, I made him invite me out in his boat. 
I’ll see you later.” She hurried off with 
,Billy. “Don’t forget to give Randolph my 
message,” she called back. 

Billy told her that he had brought some 
lunch along and planned an all-day picnic, 
and so Persis left a message for her father at 
the desk. It might have alarmed any one 
unused to Persis. It read: 


81 


A World of Pearl 

Have gone off for an indefinite period with a 
strange man. Won’t be back for lunch, anyway. 

“Well, what do you know about that?” said 
Henrietta to Wilhelmina after they had gone. 

“Those Clintocks are the limit,” said 
Wilhelmina to Henrietta. 

The red motor-boat had been newly cleaned 
and painted. Otherwise Billy would have 
told Persis to go back and put on an old dress. 
As he helped her in, he felt glad that the boat 
was in good shape. It fitted in with some¬ 
thing new and shining about Persis. Persis 
was used to boats, and got safely on board 
even though Billy did not hold her hand 
quite as long as was necessary. He was so 
afraid of holding it too long. 

“I ’ll take you to Pine Island,” he said 
briefly. 

“Pine Island is the one place above all 
others that I’ve always wanted to go to,” de¬ 
clared Persis. She moved to the bow and 
faced the wind, glorying in the cold salt 
spray. Her hair blew out in bewildering 


82 


Uncle James’ Shoes 


curls. Billy was glad it was not held down 
under a tight net. Now and then she turned 
to Billy with eager questions, alert to every 
bird that rested on the waves, every buoy they 
passed. She always found Billy smiling at 
her, watching her silently. Never before had 
Billy taken a girl out on the water. Perhaps 
he would not sell this little red boat after all. 

Pine Island was only a half-mile long, and 
nobody lived there. Yet into its small space 
it seemed to have gathered all the tempting 
bits of rock and bush and tree that that part 
of the country could produce. On one side 
was a sandy beach, on the other a curious 
ledge of smooth pink rock, broken by deep 
crevices. Inland, the ground was spongy 
with pine-needles in some places, and in others 
covered with raspberry and blueberry bushes. 
Billy picked blueberries as they went along, 
with spasmodic assistance from Persis. Persis 
was too much enraptured by the brilliant 
mushrooms in the woods, the brilliant pebbles 
on the shore, and the countless intriguing 
nooks and corners to give her earnest atten¬ 
tion to the serious consideration of lunch. 


83 


A World of Pearl 

All at once she stopped. “Why, there’s a 
cabin!” she cried. Before them was a small 
log-built shack, efficiently padlocked. “I 
wonder who in the world lives there,” mar¬ 
velled Persis. “I wish we could see inside.” 

“Perhaps my key will fit,” suggested Billy, 
trying it in the lock. The lock snapped 
open. 

“But we mustn’t go in,” objected Persis. 
“He would n’t like it. I ’ll just take one 
look and then we ’ll lock it up again.” She 
stood by the door with Billy and looked in. 
“Oh, it’s too darling!” she cried. “Yellow 
walls and two old chairs. And a fireplace; 
think of it! Look at that enchanting old sea 
picture. And the pewter porringer! And 
the rag rug! He must be a dear old sea- 
captain. I wish he’d come along and let us 
go in and poke around.” 

“Go in and poke around all you like,” 
grinned Billy. “I happen to be the old duffer 
myself.” 

“Do you really mean you own it?” rejoiced 
Persis. She ran in and made herself at 
home with enchanting impertinence. It was 


84 


Uncle James Shoes 


a simple thing, Billy’s cabin, with only a cot 
and a table for furniture, besides the few 
chairs, several cups and plates, a book or two, 
an old sea lamp perched on the shelf that ran 
around the wall. 

Billy looked at the cabin with new eyes. 
He had always seen it as a haven of peace, 
but it had not occurred to him that any one 
else would care for it. Yet Persis was en¬ 
raptured. She behaved outrageously, how¬ 
ever. First she found a broom and swept it 
out, which was insulting; then she demanded 
lunch, which was positively rude. 

Billy produced a coffee-pot from a cup¬ 
board, and forthwith Persis had to investi¬ 
gate the cupboard and rearrange it, with the 
large cans and packages at the back of the 
shelf and the little ones in front—another 
piece of outrageous behavior. 

Billy said nothing. He went around smil¬ 
ing to himself and humming a little tune. Per¬ 
haps he had not been sufficiently well brought 
up to realize how badly Persis was acting. 
As a matter of fact, Billy scarcely knew what 
he was doing. Persis made him feel pos- 



85 


A World of Pearl 

itively light-headed. If he had not had ex¬ 
ceptionally well trained hands that went 
about their business whether his mind was 
cooperating or not he never would have been 
able to get the lunch ready at all. As it was, 
he was surprised to find out that his hands 
had attended to the clams he had brought 
with him. They had efficiently rolled them 
in salted flour and now seemed to be frying 
them in a frying-pan that they held over the 
open fire. Billy wondered how the fire had 
got there, and vaguely remembered having 
struck a match. 

All this time he was going around like a 
silent, stern man with nothing on his mind 
but lunch. Persis was not even sure that he 
cared whether she was there or not. But 
every time their eyes met and he smiled at her 
she decided that he did care. When this 
happened for the fourth time Billy pulled 
himself together and sternly told himself that 
he was not to look at Persis again till lunch 
was ready. And he kept his resolution. 
Persis felt quite humbled by the time they 
sat down to fried clams, mushrooms, bread 


86 


Uncle James Shoes 


and butter, coffee with cream, cranberry jelly, 
and blueberries. And then Billy, being op¬ 
posite her and with nothing else on his mind, 
allowed himself to look at Persis. He looked 
away quickly. She was sitting with her back 
to the window, a halo of light touching her 
soft hair. Billy could not bear it. He went 
back'to the clams. 

“Billy,” said Persis, speaking slowly and 
deliberately, “I never in all my life have had 
such a good time.” 

When lunch was cleared away they sat be¬ 
fore the fire on the braided mat and talked 
till dusk. He found out a good deal about 
her, how her mother had died when she was 
only a few years old, and her father had 
given up all his time to pleasing her and 
making money for her, so that she could have 
everything she wanted. “And he does n’t 
seem to understand, poor Daddy,” she sighed, 
“that the things he strains and struggles to give 
me are n’t always the things I care anything 
about. I know he could n’t afford to send 
me to Stonebridge Hall, but he wrtuld do it, 
because it was the most expensive school he 


87 


A World of Pearl 

could find, and he thought therefore it must 
be the best. And I don’t know how I ’ll 
ever get married,” she added whimsically. 
“There’s nobody alive that combines the 
ridiculous qualities Daddy insists on in his 
son-in-law. The only boy I know that he 
likes at all is your cousin Randolph; and 
that’s only because he’s related to Uncle 
James, and Uncle James holds Daddy in the 
palm of his hand. You see Daddy’s the 
president of the Green Mountain Tin Mine, 
and Uncle James could put him out in a 
minute if he felt like it. Not that 7 V care, 
but it would kill Daddy.” She grew silent, 
her eyes on the fire. “How did you hap¬ 
pen to have this house here?” she asked at 
last. 

“Oh, I thought I’d like to get away from 
—Uncle James now and then,” explained 
Billy; “I suppose you know the feeling. So 
I bought this island for almost nothing and 
put up the house myself. Sometimes I 
spend a week here. By the way,” he remem¬ 
bered, “please don’t tell about it. I do quite 
a lot of things my people don’t know about.” 



88 


Uncle James Shoes 


“Why don’t you tell them?” she asked. 

He explained, not without difficulty. It 
was a little hard to tell her some of it, 
especially as Stormville standards forbade 
one to discuss one’s family, but he sketched in 
some of his home background. “For one 
thing I’m not of age,” he told her. “I’m 
only nineteen, and if they knew I’d saved 
up a little—a few thousands—they might 
have something to say about the way I s-pent 
it. That is, Uncle James would have some¬ 
thing to say. And, as for Jimmy and Martha, 
it’s better for them to stand on their own feet 
and earn their own money.” 

She thought that over for a moment. “Do 
you know what I’m going to do?” she mused. 
“While I’m in college I’m going to spe¬ 
cialize in some subject so that I can support 
myself. This Uncle James business has made 
me feel how criminal it is to be dependent on 
other people. I’m really going to definitely 
try to fit myself for some special work. Then 
maybe Daddy won’t worry so when Uncle 
James gets edgy.” Her attention centered 
on Uncle James. “One thing I will not do is 



89 


A World of Pearl 

kiss -that man good-by. It’s all I can do to 
call him Uncle James, though I feel better 
about that now that I know you. But when 
those Kelsey girls fawn upon him it makes 
me shudder.” Her thoughts wandered in the 
direction of Henrietta and Wilhelmina. 
“You know those girls can’t touch their 
brother. Randolph really has distinction— 
and brains. I wish I could have astronomy 
the first semester.” 

Billy threw another log on the fire. Hap¬ 
pily it was driftwood studded with copper 
nails, and it blazed into green and violet 
glory. “That’s what you ’re like,” he said 
suddenly. “Or like an opal—sort of strange 
and misty but full oi color.” He stopped 
himself. He knew now that he loved her, 
but he was not going to tell her so. Probably 
she would never dream that such a thing 
was possible. So little did Billy know of 
women. 

They did not go home until Persis’s dor¬ 
mant sense of propriety aroused itself, and 
even then they went as slowly as possible 
through a world of pearl. Sea and sky, 


90 


Uncle James Shoes 


faintly tinged with color, melted together in 
the suggestion of mist on the horizon. 

David Hamilton was used to the ways of 
his independent daughter. If he had not 
spent the afternoon with James Peters he 
would merely have told her, when she came 
home late to dinner, that she ought to have 
been home long ago and that he had been 
uneasy about her. But James Peters had 
heard from Henrietta and Wilhelmina that 
Persis had gone out in a boat with Billy 
Clintock, and he had not hesitated to give 
Hamilton a brief sketch of his young nephew, 
such a sketch as could not have been used in 
an obituary notice. Accordingly Hamilton 
had been more than vaguely uneasy. He had 
been seriously troubled. 

He met Persis and Billy at the dock, and, 
with only the briefest recognition of his 
daughter’s introduction, began the speech he 
had been preparing for her for several hours. 
It lasted until they reached the inn, and it was 
repeated with additions after dinner. He 
told Persis that she was an inexperienced 


91 


A World of Pearl 

girl, living in a cloud of rosy idealism, that she 

would have been more strictly looked after 

• 

if her mother had lived, and that he had 
come to realize his folly in allowing her to 
run wild. “When my friends begin to notice 
it,” he said, “it’s time I woke up and did my 
duty. I ’m not blaming you, Persis. It’s 
my own fault entirely. I have n’t had sense 
enough to realize that I can’t bring up my 
daughter as I was brought up.” 

Persis saw that her father’s indignation 
would only be fanned by argument. Even 
when he direly hinted that perhaps a year or 
two in a French convent would give her a 
needed idea of correct behavior, she did not 
protest. She knew that only the keenest sense 
of neglected responsibility would induce her 
father to send her so far away, and that he 
was far from being screwed up firmly enough 
to carry out his threat. 

,Billy had not been dampened by Mr. 
Hamilton’s cold reception. Indeed, he had 
hardly realized that Mr. Hamilton was 
there. Persis took up the entire foreground 


92 Uncle James Shoes 

of his consciousness. He was too happy to 
think of anything else. 

Like water rolling from a duck’s back, the 
scolding passed over Persis and left her un¬ 
touched. Of course poor Daddy thought he 
ought to lecture her; all proper-minded par¬ 
ents felt it their duty to reprove their children 
whenever the children showed any sprouts of 
ideas or conduct that differed in any way from 
the opinions and behavior of their parents. 
But there! Daddy would have forgotten all 
about it in the morning, and only be distressed 
if she had taken his words too much to heart. 

Out of consideration for her parent, there¬ 
fore, Persis skipped from the shadow of his 
disapproval and settled down to thinking 
about Billy. She thought him all over, from 
his long eyelashes that had such an enchanting 
curl in them, a bit of beauty of which Billy 
was completely unaware, to his sudden shy¬ 
nesses, his natural instinct to keep himself to 
himself. Persis knew that she could make 
Billy fall in love with her. Perhaps it would 
be the first time he had been in love. She 
rather thought so. 


93 


A World of Pearl 

Persis sought the silence and shade of a 
remote end of the piazza. She wanted to 
be by herself and think of Billy. She was not 
even trying to keep tight hold of the reins. 
She was falling in love overwhelmingly, 
gloriously, as one does at seventeen. 


CHAPTER VI 


“five years from now” 



ARTHA came home from the of¬ 
fice one afternoon, her eyes shining 
■ with excitement. “It’s coming— 
the explosion,” she whispered to Billy. In¬ 
stead of being frightened, she seemed to be 
looking forward to the crash she was going 
to make. Martha had been kept in the back¬ 
ground all her life, and it was only natural 
that she should welcome the opportunity of 
taking the center of the stage. 

She waited until after supper was over and 
the dishes cleared away. Instead of making 
for the barn or some grove near the edge of 
the water where he could think of Persis, 
Billy hung around to see what was going to 
happen. Martha went into the living-room 
and took a stand with her back to the book¬ 
case. Her mother sat sewing at one side of 
the table; her father, in his slippers, read his 

94 





“Five Years from Now” 95 

newspaper at the other side. Jimmy lay 
on the sofa, tired out after a hard day at the 
cannery. Billy leaned tentatively against 
the door-jamb opposite Martha, waiting for 
things to happen. 

“I Ve something to tell you,” began 
Martha. The announcement brought instant 
attention. It was not usual for a member of 
the family to stand up before them and make 
a remark like that. Euphemia put down her 
sewing and took off her glasses, the better to 
see Martha. William looked up over his 
paper. Jimmy shifted his position so that he 
could look at his sister. Martha felt elated, 
like an actress who had caught hold of her 
audience. 

It seemed like a new Martha that the family 
faced. Her dullness, almost sogginess, was 
gone. She was clumsy-looking still, and her 
shoes bulged ungracefully, but there was life 
in her face. Her color was brilliant. Her 
eyes shone. She was vivid, magnetic. 

“I want to tell you,” she said, “that I’m en¬ 
gaged to Paul Street. We ’re going to be 
married at once.” 


96 


Uncle James Shoes 


Breaking over her husband’s undercurrent 
of “Well, well, well!” Euphemia dashed out 
with “What do you mean?” Jimmy sat up, 
his hair rumpled, his eyes blinking. “For the 
Lord’s sake, Martha, you ’re crazy. Street’s 
only a cannery hand, and Uncle James is down 
on him, at that.” 

“And I don’t care,” flung out Martha, “two 
cents for Uncle James!” It was the same 
sentiment that Billy had expressed years be¬ 
fore. It had taken Martha longer to come to 
Billy’s conclusion, but, once she had reached 
it, she was there to stay. 

“This is Billy’s doing!” cried Euphemia. 

Billy left the door-jamb and walked over 
to Martha, holding out his hand. “Congrat¬ 
ulations,” he said, “Paul’s a peach.” Martha 
took his hand gratefully. They were part¬ 
ners, never so close together as at this moment. 

“There! I knew it!” cried Euphemia. 
“Billy, you ’ll ruin us yet! What will Uncle 
James say? You know he won’t stand for it,” 
and, with a quick realization of the right 
place to attack, she added, “He ’ll discharge 
Paul Street; that’s what he’ll do!” 


“Five Years from Now” 97 

“Paul’s going to-morrow, anyhow,” said 
Martha calmly, “and so am I. He’s slaved 
long enough for Uncle James, and he’s going 
to start a business of his own. I know the 
office work of a cannery, and Paul knows the 
mechanical end. And between us we ’re go¬ 
ing to start a business that will be a real busi¬ 
ness, and,” she added significantly, “that’s 
going to last.” 

“Well, well, well!” said William Clintock. 

“Bully for you!” cried Billy. 

“Jimmy,” cried Euphemia wildly, “you’re 
all I’ve got left.” 

Jimmy fell back on the sofa. “I’m 
dished,” he said. “You don’t suppose Uncle 
James will have me around after my sister’s 
done a thing like that.” 

“You’d be better off if you left him, 
Jimmy,” said Billy earnestly. “I tell you as 
I’ve told you before, you ’re wasting 
your whole life hanging on to that old skin¬ 
flint.” 

Euphemia burst into tears. “There, that’s 
what children are,” she sobbed. “We 
mothers wear ourselves out caring for them 


98 


Uncle James Shoes 


and struggling for their future, and then they 
ruin you in your old age.” 

“Mother, you ’re unreasonable,” argued 
Billy. “We can’t spoil our lives for the vague 
hope that we ’ll inherit Uncle James’s money 
some day.” 

“Why is it a vague hope?” demanded 
Euphemia hotly. “I’m James’s only sister, 
the only near relative he’s got in the world. 
Who on earth would he leave his money to 
if not to me? He’s not the kind that takes 
any interest in charity, thank Heaven. Why, 
Billy, you don’t understand.” She was too 
earnest to cry now. “Uncle James has two 
hundred thousand dollars at the very least. 
I know, because it comes out in the income 
tax returns every year that one man in Storm- 
ville has fifteen thousand a year, and who 
would it be but James? Think what that 
would mean to our old age, your father’s and 
mine. Do you suppose I’ve enjoyed being 
buried alive in Stormville all my life? Don’t 
you think I’d like to go around and have 
some good clothes occasionally, like other 
women? Why, Billy, I’ve yearned all my 


“Five Years from Now” 99 

life to go to Paris and London and Rome and 
all those places. I Ve yearned for a little fun 
and a little life. And here James is old, 
fifteen years older than I am, and he may die 
at any moment and make all my dreams come 
true. Of course I’m not wishing him to 
die”—she thought she was sincere in that— 
“but he’s got to die some day, and when that 
day comes his money might as well come to 
me as to”—viciously— “Bessie!" 

“But, Mother, there’s so much else in life,” 
pleaded Billy. 

“Maybe for you,” returned his mother, 
“but what is there for me? What else have 
I to look forward to in my old age? All my 
life I Ve longed for the day when I ’d not 
have to skimp any more, when I ’d have the 
money I’m entitled to. I was n’t born to 
poverty, Billy, and I was n’t made for it. I 
ought to be living in New York and sending 
you children to college. Why, when Martha 
was a baby I picked out the boarding-school 
I was going to send her to when she grew up. 
I thought we’d be rich then, as we have a 
right to be. And I thought Martha would 


) i 


» > > 





100 


Uncle James Shoes 


be sitting in an opera box and maybe getting 
engaged to an English lord—and now—” she 
broke down—“she wants to—to marry an 
ordinary workman—” 

“Mother,” said Billy unsteadily, “maybe 
I could save up enough to—to send you to 
Europe next summer.” 

“Oh, could you, Billy?” gasped Euphemia. 
“Do you really think you could? Of course 
I would n’t use the money on a trip to Europe, 
but I’ve always thought that if we could give 
James one nice present—say, a solid silver tea- 
service—he could n't decently cut us out of 
his will. Billy, do you think you could do 
it? I would n’t take your money if it was n’t 
for your own good.” 

“It’s a cracked cylinder,” murmured Billy, 
“a cracked cylinder. You can’t do anything 
with a cracked cylinder. No use trying to 
patch it up.” He left the room and went out 
to the barn. “Persis,” he whispered, “do you 
think Uncle James stands any chance of 
getting that tea-set?” 

Again next day he took Persis to Pine 
Island. They had planned it for a week 






“Five Years from Now 33 101 

during the brief moments when they had been 
together. It was to be an evening picnic, 
and they were coming back by moonlight. 

David Hamilton had been called to the 
New York office for several days. He was 
too busy with business problems to give any 
great attention to the problem of Persis. 
Moreover, he trusted her perfectly, and had 
no fear of leaving her alone at the inn, which 
was filled for the most part with ladies from 
Boston who knitted and rocked from morn¬ 
ing till night. 

So, with no one to say them nay, Billy and 
Persis set out at five o’clock with a lunch- 
basket, a book, a flash-light, a little bottle of 
salad-dressing, and a big bottle of milk for 
cocoa. As they walked across the island 
Persis acted like a puppy being taken for a 
walk. She was in the loveliest spot in the 
world on the loveliest evening in the world 
with—Billy. She was not in the least op¬ 
pressed by the feeling that she was being 
decidedly unconventional in going for an 
evening picnic on a remote island with a very 
new acquaintance. Indeed, it is just possible 


102 Uncle James Shoes 

that she enjoyed the sensation of being 
dashing. 

Billy, in one of his silent moods, but with 
smiling eyes, unlocked the cabin door. 
Persis took off her hat, threw it on the shelf, 
and began preparing the salad and cold 
tongue. With due seriousness, Billy made a 
paste of sugar and cocoa, added the milk, and 
set the sauce-pan on the fire. Persis was in¬ 
spired to make toast, and sat on the hearth 
beside Billy. Billy found he would have to 
stay there to hold the handle of the sauce-pan. 
Persis held the bread out toward the flame 
and looked at it every three seconds. The 
air began to smell lusciously of toast and 
cocoa. Billy rose and got the butter and a 
knife, so that Persis could butter each slice 
while it was hot. Persis noticed that the 
sauce-pan stayed in place when Billy was 
not there, but she did not mention it. Billy 
began holding it again, with the utmost cau¬ 
tion, when he got back. The toast and cocoa 
were finished simultaneously and placed on 
the table. Billy decided that they had better 
both sit at the same side of the table, so that 


“Five Years from Now " 103 

they could both see the fire. Persis admitted 
that it was a reasonable suggestion. 

It was a marvelous supper, down to the 
very last spoonful of the guava jelly that Per¬ 
sis had brought for dessert. “There is some¬ 
thing indescribably sublime,” said Persis, 
pausing before the last tempting morsel, 
“about guava jelly on hot buttered toast.” 

Persis removed the traces of butter from 
her fingers and lips, crumpled up her paper 
napkin, and threw it in the fire. 

“Now we ’ll wash the dishes,” she said, 
“and sit down on the hearth with clear con¬ 
sciences.” There being only two dishes to 
wash, besides the cups and saucers and sauce¬ 
pan, the serious business of life was soon over 
with. 

“How about blowing out the lamp?” sug¬ 
gested Billy. “The firelight and moonlight 
suffer from competition.” Persis had just 
been hoping he would suggest it. 

They sat before the fire speechless. The 
light quivered on Persis’ beautiful, serious 
face. What was she thinking about? If only 
he could know! Billy wanted to ask so much, 


104 


Uncle James Shoes 


but he could not say a word. She was a 
marvelous mystery, deliciously human, yet not 
altogether real, either. He wanted to touch 
her light hair, glowing in the firelight, and 
find out if it were of the substance of sunlight. 

Suddenly Billy made up his mind that she 
could never be his, that a person named Billy 
who lived in Stormville was too prosaic to be 
part of the picture of gold and violet before 
him. But his resolution was but a hand lifted 
to stay the tide. Before he knew it he found 
himself speaking. He had said, “Persis— 
I—” and stopped, startled at the sound of his 
voice. She smiled up at him and looked back 
into the fire. Something clutched at Billy’s 
throat. He was afraid to speak again, afraid 
he could not steady his voice. They sat in 
silence for a long moment. Suddenly Persis 
put her hand on his knee. His fingers closed 
over it, enveloped it. He held it tight as 
though he would never let go. It gave him 
courage to feel that she was real. “Persis,” 
he whispered, “there never has been and there 
never will be any one in my life but you.” 

She was close to him, his arms were around 


“Five Years from Now” 105 

her, her face was pressed against his shoulder. 
Gently he pushed back her hair and kissed 
her. Her kiss was not merely yielded to him; 
it was given with the same intensity as his. 
He had not won her; she had come to him 
just as he had come to her, freely, eagerly. 

“Billy,” she whispered, “we’ve found each 
other.” 

It was a moment before she asked the inev¬ 
itable question, unaware that it was as much 
a part of the engagement ceremony as the “I 
will” is of the wedding ceremony. “When,” 
she asked, “did you first—” 

“The day we were here before,” he told her 
instantly, “when I suddenly saw you sitting at 
the table with the sun behind you. . . . I— 
just—could n’t speak. I think I’d begun to 
love you before that, but it had n’t come rush¬ 
ing over me so that I knew that nothing else 
in life mattered. Did you—care—then, too?” 

“Yes,” she whispered. “It’s a queer thing 
—there’s just one little gesture of yours— 
the way you move your eyes without moving 
your head when you ’re thinking—that makes 
me stop breathing. You look as if you were 





106 


Uncle James Shoes 


communing with yourself, and as if I 
could n’t get to you, and that’s the time when 
I want you more than life itself. You don’t 
mean to shut me out, do you, Billy?” 

Billy asked her if a man in a dungeon 
would want to shut out the sun. They cleared 
up all the fragments of misunderstandings 
that had kept them apart. 

“I thought perhaps you did n’t want me 
to—” 

“Why, that was exactly what I wanted, but 
I was afraid perhaps you did n’t feel—” 

With each step forward there had been the 
half-frightened shrinking back, the fear of 
trespassing. 

“But now,” said Billy confidently, “there 
will never be any misunderstandings between 
us.” 

Her fingers closed quickly on his. “There 
must nt be,” she whispered. After a minute 
she said a little wistfully, “I don’t know what 
Father will say about this.” 

He was obliged to yield her father a place 
in his consciousness. “Wouldn’t he want us 
to marry?” he asked. 



“Five Years from Novo” 107 

She suppressed a smile. No, she was 
afraid he would n’t. Perhaps they ought to 
wait two years—well, one year, anyway. She 
was only seventeen. Billy admitted that he 
would not be able to take care of her for an¬ 
other year. She objected to the expression. 
She was going to take care of herself, not be a 
burden to Billy. That was why she was eager 
to go to college and learn something. 

Billy protested that he wanted to take care 
of her, but she silenced him. “You know 
how you feel about Uncle James,” she said. 
“You want to stand on your own feet and not 
be a hanger-on. You think your sister and 
brother ought to support themselves, and you 
must admit that I ought to, too. I’ve a 
horror of being dependent, even on you. 
We ’ll have to wait, before we get married, 
until I can take care of myself, not until you 
can take care of me.” 

“But we mustn’t wait too long,” objected 
Billy. 

“If I had to choose,” she said solemnly, 
“between my principles and you—I’d choose 
you. All the same, there’s no reason why a 




108 


Uncle James Shoes 


healthy and reasonably intelligent person like 
me should n’t be getting a fair salary, and I 
intend to have one when I marry, and not 
absorb all your income.” 

“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I’m 
getting on rather well. People don’t seem to 
know it, but I’m saving up quite a lot. I 
have two thousand dollars invested in one 
company, and a thousand in another, and a 
few hundreds in the bank. Of course it is n’t 
such a lot, but I seem to make more and more 
every year. I think in time when I have 
enough capital I ’ll start some kind of a 
plant.” 

In a vague way they planned their home 
together. It was to have a breakfast-porch 
facing the sea, and a quaint old knocker on 
the door, and windows shaped so that they 
would frame the views. And, of course, 
fireplaces and window-seats and a garden. 
They would always keep the cabin on Pine 
Island, so that they could come back and live 
that evening over again. There would be so 
many wonderful things to do together. 

“And just because we ’re both so young,” 


“Five Years from Now” 109 

added Persis, “we ’ll have all those extra 
years together that so many people miss. 
Suppose we had n’t met each other till we 
were thirty!” Like all true lovers, she took 
it for granted that she would have remained 
single until Billy came along. Billy was not 
just one of many that she might have loved; 
he was the one person in all time and space 
that belonged to her. Undoubtedly they had 
been tadpoles together. But there came upon 
her a sudden fear. Suppose something should 
separate them! Perhaps her father—but no, 
he could n’t be so cruel. She would surely 
be able to make him see what was so plain to 
her. Nevertheless, she could not shake off 
the idea. “Billy,” she said, clutching his 
hand as though to keep from being torn from 
him, “I want to say something silly.” 

“Say it, dearest,” he smiled. The word 
made him dizzy. He had to stop and kiss 
her again before he would let her speak. 

“Suppose,” she said, “something should 
separate us. Yes, I know it can’t, Billy, but 
still it has happened to other people before, 
and especially—to people as young as we are. 


110 


Uncle James Shoes 


Billy, let’s make a promise to come together 
again at a certain time and place. Let’s 
swear we ’ll be there even if we’ve been taken 
away from each other, or grown apart. Even 
if we ’re—I know it could n’t happen, Billy, 
but I want to make it strong—even if we ’re 
both married to other people.” 

“Don’t,” he whispered. 

“Oh, I know we could n’t be, dear,” she de¬ 
clared, “but I want to make sure that we ’ll 
be together again in the future—even if mis¬ 
understandings should come between us, or I 
should have failed in being independent and 
be too proud to let you support me; I don’t 
think I could be as silly as that, but you do 
change so every year it’s hard to say what 
you ’ll be like five years from now. Let’s 
make it five years from my next birthday— 
October eleventh.” It was the day after his 
own birthday. 

“October eleventh, five years from now,” he 
said solemnly, looking into the fire. What 
would he have accomplished by then? 

“And we’ll meet—let’s see—at the Wal¬ 
pole Hotel in New York, down near Wash- 





“Five Years from Now” 111 

ington Square. It’s a nice quiet place full of 
corners where you can sit and talk. We used 
to stay there before we had a New York apart¬ 
ment. You must reserve the last table on the 
right by the far window. You understand? 
The last window in the dining-room. Be 
sure you ’re not late,” she ended severely. 
“There’s no excuse for it when you ’ve made 
the appointment five years ahead!” 

He repeated her instructions seriously. 
“I ’ll be there,” he said. “We ’ll go together, 
for your birthday celebration.” He pictured 
it all to himself. “You ’ll be sitting opposite 
me in a dress the color of lilacs, like the one 
you ’re wearing now; you ’ll look a little older 
but just as beautiful. You ’ll be wearing a 
wedding-ring, and a chain around your neck 
with one of those purple stones hung on it—” 
“An amethyst,” said Persis breathlessly. 
“It ’ll have pearls all around it, and I ’ll 
have just given it to you for your birthday—” 
“Thank you, Billy,” said Persis gratefully. 
“You ’ll be wearing a necktie that I bought 
you to celebrate the occasion, and you ’ll look 
just as strange and dark and wonderful as you 




112 


Uncle James Shoes 


do now, but you won’t be a mystery any more. 
I ’ll know all your opinions on everything, 
and all your pet stories—” 

“What’s that?” cried Billy. “Is that the 
kind of a wife you ’re going to make?” 

“But I ’ll shift the conversation around so 
that you can bring them in, and I ’ll listen to 
them panting with excitement, as if I’d never 
heard them before,” finished Persis. 

“Well, you’d better,” advised Billy. 

“It will be a wonderful party,” sighed 
Persis. “Oh, by the way,” she sat up sud¬ 
denly, “I quite forgot to tell you, I’m giv¬ 
ing a party myself Saturday night.” 

“Oh, you are, are you?” said Billy. “I 
hope I’m the only guest.” 

“You will be one—of a hundred,’’replied 
Persis solemnly. “It’s a dance. So many 
people around here have asked me to dances 
and dinners and things that Daddy thought 
it was time I gave something. Just think, 
I ’ll dance with you for the first time, Billy.” 

It was as though she had suddenly been 
removed from his world. With a shock he 
remembered that she was a city person, in- 


“Five Years from Now” 113 

timate with the people who lived in the big 
houses on the shore and sent prices skying 
during the summer. 

“Oh, but Persis,” he stammered, “I don’t 
dance, and I have n’t any evening-clothes.” 

“But you won’t need to wear evening- 
clothes,” explained Persis confidently. “Just 
white trousers and a blue coat.” She took it 
for granted that he had white trousers and 
a blue coat. He was suddenly miserable, 
realizing that she did not know what a simple 
person he was. He sat up, bent upon clear¬ 
ing away her misconception of him. “You 
know, Persis,” he said, “I’m not used to any¬ 
thing of this sort. Maybe you don’t realize 
that I’m just a workman. I’m not saying 
I’m not as good as the average summer boy 
you know in some ways, but I don’t know 
how to behave in a parlor. I’d step on the 
ladies’ trains and knock over the lemonade 
pitcher.” 

“There won’t be any trains,” explained 
Persis, “and the lemonade will be in a bowl 
that you won’t be able to knock over, unless 
you do it deliberately, to create a sensation* 


114 


Uncle James Shoes 


And I want to tell you, Billy Clintock, that 
you ’re naturally reposeful and graceful, and 
if you don’t worry about it you ’ll be ten 
times more stunning than any man there.” 

He could not help feeling a little pleased at 
that. He had no idea that he was ornamental. 
He determined to get some white trousers and 
a blue coat. Yes, if Persis asked it he would 
walk on his knees to Washington, swim the 
Hellespont, even—in the vastness of his love 
he swore it—even wear a monocle and spats. 



CHAPTER VII 


UNCLE JAMES REARRANGES MATTERS 

J IMMY came home earlier than usual 
and threw his hat on the floor. “Well, 
it’s all up,” he said, flinging himself on 
the sofa. 

Euphemia turned pale. “James has n’t—” 
she asked. 

“Yes, he has. Fired me. You can thank 
Billy for it.” 

Euphemia went to the back door and called 
toward the barn: “Billy! Come here this 
minute!” 

Unhappily Billy was caught in the act of 
inspecting himself before the glass to see if he 
looked too much of a darn fool in the white 
trousers and blue coat. The urgency of his 
mother’s voice made him come as he was to the 
house. The sight of him in his careless 
splendor enraged Jimmy. Always secretly 


116 


Uncle James Shoes 


envious of his brother’s strength and good 
looks, Jimmy had soothed his vanity with the 
reflection that Billy was without social graces 
and would never be welcome at the best 
parties of Stormville. Jimmy turned white. 
“Well,” he said, “you ’ll be glad to hear that 
you’ve ditched me.” 

“It’s your doing, Billy,” cried his mother, 
coming toward him with outstretched finger. 
“You ’re the one that started it all.” She was 
trembling with anger. “When you were a 
little boy you insulted James here in this very 
house, or out in the barn, anyway, and you put 
Martha up to this nonsense, and you’ve 
wrecked Jimmy’s career and spoiled my 
chances. You know you have!” 

“And you stand there like a great bumpkin,” 
yelled Jimmy, infuriated by Billy’s tremen¬ 
dous appearance, “and gloat over me because 
you’ve spoiled my life. You never had any 
chance with Uncle James, so you want to ruin 
my chances and Martha’s. I know what 
you’re trying to do.” Jimmy was suddenly 
inspired. “You ’re going to let Bessie’s brats 
get the money and then marry one of them!” 


Uncle James Rearranges Matters 117 

All at once Jimmy had, he believed, pieced 
two and two together. Henrietta and Wilhel- 
mina had recently taken a spurt of interest in 
Billy, because of his intimacy with Persis, and 
had invited him over to play bridge. True, he 
had declined, but that was doubtless only to 
lead them on. 

Struck by this, the first logical explanation 
of Billy’s conduct that she had ever been able 
to conceive, Euphemia pounced upon it with 
fury. “So that’s what you’re doing!” she 
cried. “So that’s it! And I never even saw 
it. Jimmy, you’re pretty smart.” Her ad¬ 
miration of Jimmy gave way instantly to 
resentment against Billy. “To think that my 
own son would do a thing like that! Marry 
one of Bessie's girls! For money!” 

“Where’s Martha?” asked Billy wearily. 

“Getting married somewhere,” growled 
Jimmy. “She left a note on Uncle James’s 
desk, and Uncle James came in swearing 
bloody murder and fired me.” 

Euphemia sank into a chair. Then it was 
all over with Martha. There was no hope. 
Her daughter had gone down for the third 


118 


Uncle James Shoes 


time. In the reaction from her rage she felt 
too weak to say anything more to Billy. 
Billy went back to the barn. What was the 
use of trying to tell them anything? 

Billy stayed in the barn until it was time to 
go to the dance. He did not feel like any 
supper. He took a bath under the shower 
that he had rigged up in one corner of the 
ground floor of the barn and went up-stairs to 
get into his new clothes. His new silk socks 
felt cold upon his feet, but rather pleasant. 
How smoothly the patent-leather pumps, 
bought from a mail-order house, slipped over 
them! His feet felt small and easy to manage, 
perhaps he would be able to dance after all. 

Billy felt in his lower bureau drawer for 
his one white shirt. “What in thunder?” he 
muttered, as his groping hand touched some¬ 
thing strange. He pulled the drawer farther 
open and struck a match. The yellow eyes of 
Nelly, the cat blinked up at him. Something 
was wriggling around her. Kittens! Billy 
held the match closer. Yes, there were two 
brand-new kittens. The drawer had been left 
partly open, and Nelly had moved in! The 


Uncle James Rearranges Matters 119 

match went out, and Billy dropped on the bed. 
“For the love of Heaven,” he remarked. 

Well, it was no use trying to get the white 
shirt. The kittens were on top of it, and Billy 
decided that they were too young to be moved. 
So he got out a pink striped shirt and the 
striped collar that matched it. Billy did not 
think it looked very well, but clothes were a 
minor matter, and no real person would think 
the less of him for not wearing a white shirt. 

As he left the barn in the dusk his mother 
called to him, “Billy, where are you going?” 

“To a dance,” he answered tersely. 

“Of all things! Where?” 

“At the Inn.” 

“Who’s giving it?” 

“People named Hamilton.” 

Jimmy had followed his mother to the door 
to hear what was up. Billy going to the 
Hamiltons’ dance! Jimmy nearly dropped. 
“Don’t be a fool,” he growled. “You ’ll only 
make a goat of yourself. You know you can’t 
dance. And you look like the devil.” 

Billy walked on without answering. As he 
came out of the darkness into the light of the 


120 


Uncle James Shoes 


Inn and heard music and laughter inside, 
Billy understood for the first time why people 
liked parties. He stood for a moment on the 
piazza, looking in with intent eyes. Yes, 
there she was. In a wonderful frock of white 
lace. How she stood out from all the rest! 
And she was his! This amazing person was 
his. 

Billy stepped inside. Instantly Persis saw 
him and ran to him, both hands out. “Billy,” 
she cried, “you Ve got to dance with me!” 

“But I can’t, Persis,” he protested. 

“Come out in the hall and I ’ll show you 
how,” she insisted. 

He got along better than he had expected. 
Why, some of it was nothing but walking. 
The fox-trot you could make up as you went 
along. He could get away with it, he de¬ 
cided. 

She introduced him to a lot of people. She 
was careful to introduce him to the right ones 
—those who were either too humble or too 
exalted to mind his shirt. To Billy they were 
all folks. He was happily free from the class 


Uncle James Rearranges Matters 121 

consciousness that makes the average man 
instantly catalogue a stranger as a workman 
or a capitalist, a plumber, school-teacher, 
porter, or potentate. He did not see any 
difference between the nice little telephone- 
girl at the Inn, whom Persis had been careful 
to invite to the party, and the daughter of a 
Boston banker whose ancestors figured in 
every school history of American literature. 
Both of them were nice to him, and both were 
human, intelligent girls. Indeed, he put them 
in the same category! The card-index of 
Billy’s mind was arranged neither in geo¬ 
graphical, alphabetical, nor social order. 
The grouping was strictly in accordance with 
fundamental values, with Persis at the top in 
a compartment all to herself, and Uncle James 
in equal solitude at the bottom. 

Henrietta and Wilhelmina were not quite 
sure whether to make up to Billy or not. He 
was certainly good-looking, and evidently in 
strong with Persis, but his shirt was awful. 
They reluctantly decided that their social 
position was not quite strong enough to 


122 


Uncle James Shoes 


counterbalance the shirt, that, indeed, the shirt 
would endanger their social position if it came 
near them. True, Billy was dancing with the 
banker’s daughter from Boston, but that 
might easily be interpreted as an act of agree¬ 
able condescension on her part. Obviously 
she was beyond any shadow the shirt might 
cast. A king may look at a cat without 
menace to his social position. But should 
Henrietta and Wilhelmina dance with Billy 
it might be recalled that they were his cousins, 
part and parcel of the shirt by a family tie. 
No, it could n’t be done. 

Mr. Hamilton was not particularly nice to 
Billy, but Billy decided that he was just 
naturally a stiff sort of man. Persis was 
enough, anyway, to drive all other interests 
from Billy’s mind. She was always coming 
to him whenever she had two seconds to spare. 
She even managed to snatch five minutes out 
on the dock with him, where the sound of the 
music merged with the sound of the waves, 
and the light from the Inn and the light from 
the moon melted together on the water. It 
was the same moon that had flooded them 


Uncle James Rearranges Matters 123 

on the island, only now it had risen a little 
later, just because they were staying up 
later. 

The hostess’s interest in Billy did not pass 
unnoticed, and among those who remarked it 
was Randolph. While Persis and Billy were 
out on the pier, Randolph went to a dark cor¬ 
ner of the piazza and thought. He had de¬ 
cided long since that he was going to marry 
Persis, and he did not like the thought that 
Billy might develop the same idea. Of course 
Billy lacked sophistication, but he had looks, 
and girls were romantic. One must not dis¬ 
count a rival’s chances. 

Randolph’s brain was not unlike his moth¬ 
er’s. His course was always roundabout. 
When he wanted to call attention to the mote 
in his neighbor’s eye, he remarked on the 
colour of its iris. 

Ah I Here came Uncle James, heavily 
pompous, with an eye on the girls in their 
evening-dresses. Randolph sauntered over to 
him. They sat down together. 

“Quite a gay little party,” said Randolph in 
his best man-of-the-world manner. “Every- 


124 Uncle James Shoes 

body in Stormville’s here—even Billy Clin- 
tock.” 

Uncle James’s eyes narrowed. “Where,” 
he asked, “is Billy Clintock?” 

“Oh, out on the pier with Persis, I believe,” 
answered Randolph indifferently. “He seems 
to be hanging around her all the time. But 
Persis—you know how she is. She ’ll suffer 
anything rather than hurt] the merest— 
puppy.” Randolph felt, as an artist, that he 
had uttered the last word with just a little too 
much feeling. But, Lord! Uncle James was 
too stupid to notice fine shades like that. 

“How did that puppy get in here?” de¬ 
manded Uncle James. Randolph perceived 
that his stressing of the word had been pre¬ 
cisely right. “Oh, he’s been seeing quite a 
lot of Persis, I understand,” he answered. 
“Too bad her father does n’t do anything 
about it. Of course Billy may be a good 
enough sort of fellow, and those liquid-eyed 
men always do have a way with women, but 
for a girl like Persis to throw herself away 
on—” 

“There’s no question of her throwing her- 





Uncle James Rearranges Matters 125 

self away!” exploded Uncle James. Ah! 
That remark about the liquid eyes had worked. 
A man of Uncle James’s interests would not 
lightly allow another man of a totally dif¬ 
ferent type to have “a way with women.” 

“They receive that scapegrace because he’s 
my nephew,” declared Uncle James, “and 
it’s my duty to put them straight. I count on 
you, Randolph, to indorse what I say. I 
take it you’ve got no love for Billy Clintock?” 

“I admit,” said Randolph cautiously, “that 
he has never appealed to me.” 

“Being my nephew, he would n’t,” re¬ 
marked Uncle James, but he instantly changed 
the subject. Randolph was his ally, and must 
not be piqued. 

“Snappy little filly, that girl in green,” 
murmured Uncle James. “Get ’em young, 
Randolph; that’s my advice as man to man. 
Get ’em young, and train ’em the way you like 
’em. I never got married myself, could n’t 
settle down to one woman; but my advice to 
you, boy, is to get married and have a good 
woman to look after you in your old age, a 
good fine-looking woman, like this Persis. 


126 


Uncle James Shoes 


Maybe you ’d be smart enough to have your 
cake and eat it, too. I never was—” 

“No,” thought Randolph scornfully, 
“you ’d have bragged to your wife about your 
other affairs.” 

“No,” continued Uncle James, “I could n’t 
have got away with it.” He had started out 
with the clever idea of making Randolph 
jealous of Billy, hut he was eternally interested 
in the reminiscences of his clandestine love- 
making, and he could not resist giving 
Randolph a picture of what a dashing fellow 
he had been. “Now, there was my first little 
darling,” he sighed, “little Milly What ’s-her- 
name. I was n’t more than eighteen then. I 
was so wild over that girl that I was almost 
ready to marry her. But I kept my head; I 
kept my head. And then there was a little 
sweetheart I got hold of over at the county 
fair. She was in a side-show posing as a real 
live mermaid. And I just went up to her 
and winked and said, ‘Now, you little hum¬ 
bug, I’m coming back at six to take you out 
to supper, and we ’ll find out if you’ve got 
any—’ ” 



Uncle James Uearranges Matters 127 

The music stopped, and Uncle James left 
his sentence in the air. Randolph changed 
the subject. His uncle’s unfastidiousness 
disgusted him. There were ways and ways 
of doing these things. He had always looked 
forward, himself, to a few months with some 
slant-eyed, strange, exotic woman in some 
sophisticated spot, possibly the Riviera, but 
when it came to freaks at a county fair, 
Randolph was thoroughly annoyed. Besides, 
he wanted to get Uncle James back to the 
subject of Billy. Opportunely Billy entered, 
following Persis. 

“Billy, c’m ’ere,” called Uncle James. 

Slowly Billy walked over to his uncle and 
stood beside him, almost haughtily. 

“What have you got to say about Martha’s 
doings?” demanded Uncle James. 

“Nothing, except to congratulate her,” 
returned Billy with hauteur. 

“Oh, you congratulate her,” repeated Uncle 
James, with narrowed eyes. “Well, I’m 
going to fix you, young man, and don’t you 
forget it.” Billy turned on his heel. 

“Randolph,” said Uncle James, “go fetch 


Uncle James Shoes 


128 

David Hamilton. Tell him to c’m’ out on 
the piazza. I’ve got something to say to 
him.” 

In a few moments Randolph, Uncle James, 
and Hamilton stood together in the darkness 
of the piazza. “David,” said James, “I ’m 
afraid you ’re being taken in. You’ve got 
my nephew, Billy Clintock, here at your party, 
and I just wanted to warn you that Billy’s not 
to be trusted in decent society.” Hamilton 
started. “No, sir,” continued James, “I’m 
through with him, and he’s out of my will. 
He’s vicious; that’s what he is. Ain’t that 
so, Randolph?” 

Randolph hesitated, but the eyes of his 
uncle were upon him. “I must admit that 
I have no use for the boy at all,” he hedged. 

“What worries me,” continued James, “is 
that he’s hanging around Persis all the time. 
Now, you know how young girls are. They 
get an idea in their heads—” 

“But Persis is only a child!” cried Hamil¬ 
ton. He said it again, as though by repeti¬ 
tion he could make it true. “She’s nothing 
but a little girl. She has n’t the remotest 



Uncle James Rearranges Matters 129 

thought of falling in love.” Even the most 
intelligent parents sometimes talk that way. 

Randolph smiled a sad, superior smile. 
Hamilton caught it. “We ’ll have this out 
right away,” he said. “Randolph, go and get 
Persis and bring her to my sitting-room, and 
you come too, James.” 

They gathered again in the private sitting- 
room, Persis startled, her father expression¬ 
less. Uncle James lit a cigar and sat heavily 
back in his chair. Randolph stood with a 
chair in front of him, looking down. His 
long fingers clenched the back of the chair 
until the knuckles whitened. 

“Persis,” said David Hamilton stonily, 
“your Uncle James tells me that this Billy— 
er—” 

“Clintock,” prompted James. 

“Clintock, who is here at the dance and 
rather—er—conspicuously attentive to you 
is a—a disreputable person. Am I right, 
James?” 

“That’s what I’d call him,” said James, 
twisting the cigar to the corner of his mouth. 
Still Randolph looked down at his white 





130 


Uncle James Shoes 


hands. Persis turned pale but said nothing. 

“Of course this—boy—is nothing to you, 
Persis.” Her father affirmed it, but waited, 
nevertheless, for an answer. 

Persis drew a deep breath. “I had n’t 
meant to tell you for a long while, Daddy,” 

she said, “but Billy and I are engaged.” 
The whole circle stirred. James took out 

his cigar. Randolph dropped the chair and 
put his hands behind him. David Hamilton 
took a step forward. 

“You can’t mean it, child!” he cried in¬ 
credulously. 

“Yes, I do mean it,” said Persis with heat, 
“and if we ’re going to talk about Billy I 
insist on his being here.” 

“Go and get him, Randolph,” ordered 
Hamilton, in spite of a protest from James. 

Nothing was said in the interval before 
Billy arrived. James looked indignantly at 
his cigar and put it savagely back into his 
mouth. Hamilton walked to the window and 
stood looking out through the green denim 
curtains. Persis stood alone, breathing hard, 
her color rising. The door opened, and Billy 



Uncle James Rearranges Matters 131 

and Randolph entered. Persis went over to 
Billy at once. “Remember, nothing can 
change me,” she whispered. They stood side 
by side, Persis flushed and defiant, Billy 
grim. 

“Clintock,” said Hamilton suddenly, “I 
forbid you to see Persis again.” 

Billy looked at him in amazement. 
“What’s happened?” he asked. 

“Simply that I have found out that you 
are not a fit companion for my daughter,” 
said Hamilton. 

Billy stood looking at him, hardly able to 
believe that he had heard the words. 
“What’s the matter with me?” he gasped. 

“Oh, Billy, Billy,” intoned Uncle James, 
as one who said, “Why try to pretend?” 

“Oh,” said Billy, and he understood. He 
walked over to Hamilton. “I don’t know 
what my uncle’s been saying,” he said, “but 
I can assure you that I am fit to be a friend 
of Persis. Of course I’m not worthy to—to 
—black her boots, but, then, neither is any¬ 
body in the world.” He turned to Persis. 
“I’ve nothing to conceal from you,” he said. 


132 Uncle James Shoes 

“I know it!” cried Persis, “and if there’s 
any more talk we ’ll get married to-morrow.” 

Distant dance-music filled the tense pause 
that followed. Hamilton looked at Billy, 
but with a prejudiced eye. What he saw was 
not the candor of Billy’s gaze, the vigorous 
molding of his features. Instead his eye was 
caught and held by Billy’s absurd shirt and 
collar. Hamilton was something of a self- 
made man who by natural sensitiveness and 
delicacy of perception had quickly acquired 
the form and manner of good breeding, but, 
since he had never intimately chewed on the 
golden spoon in his infancy, he could never 
bring himself to fling it in the corner, as 
Persis did, when occasion required. Billy’s 
shirt and collar stamped him, for Hamilton, 
as a jockey. Never in his humblest days 
would Hamilton have worn them. He 
turned upon Persis icily. “To-morrow ” he 
said, “we are going back to New York. 
Moreover, you are not to see this man again. 
Unless you immediately promise me not to 
see him and not to write to him, I shall send 
you to a convent in France. Remember, you 


Uricle James Rearranges Matters 133 

are not of age. I am legally as well as 
morally within my rights in trying to protect 
you. ... I am waiting for your promise.” 

“Very well,” flashed Persis, “I ’ll give it!” 
But she whispered to Billy: “And I”ll break 
it the first chance I get. There’s no sacred¬ 
ness in that kind of a promise.” 

Billy was shaken. In Stormville promises 
were promises. “I—I can’t let you do that,” 
he whispered. “I—I don’t know what to do.” 

Hamilton strode up to him. “If you ’re 
any kind of a man,” he said, “you won’t see 
Persis again. You ’re older than she, and 
ought to know that it’s a waste of time for her 
to think of you. I want you to leave without 
causing any more trouble.” Billy turned and 
left the room. Before he knew what had 
happened Persis was out in the hall with him 
and had closed the door behind her. “Billy,” 
she said, “we ’ll get married the minute I’m 
of age—one year from October eleventh.” 

Billy could not speak. He took both her 

9 

hands in a tight grip and with that pressure 
promised her everlasting loyalty. He turned 
from her and hurried out of the Inn, dazed 




134 


Uncle James Shoes 


and colorless. But there came a new strength 
in his face with the swelling of his unshakable 
certainty that neither Hamilton nor Uncle 
James, nor even Randolph with all his 
subtlety, would be able to keep Persis from 
him. 


CHAPTER VIII 


UNCLE JAMES WAGES THE GREAT PRICE WAR 


U NCLE James missed Jimmy at the 
cannery. It was not easy to find 
any one so anxious to please or ready 
to accept such a small salary, and so when for 
the fourth time he looked around to give 
Jimmy a curt order and found Jimmy not 
there a magnanimous desire to forgive Jimmy 
welled within him. On further reflection, it 
occurred to him that his forgiveness might 
just as well be made contingent on something 
in the nature of a spoke to be inserted into 
Billy’s wheel. His efficient business head 
was always mindful of such possibilities. 

Following upon the heels of these workings 
of the Uncle James mind came action. The 
Uncle James hat was planted upon the 
magnate’s head, and off waddled the big man 
of Stormville. He came, in due course, to 

135 


136 


Uncle James Shoes 


the Clintock front door, rang the bell, and, 
without troubling to wipe his feet on the mat 
—for who were the Clintocks to expect such 
ceremonies?—entered as soon as the door 
was opened by his frightened sister. 

“Now at last the end is come,” reflected 
Euphemia. “My children he has cast off one 
by one, and he is come to strike me down in 
my old age, to announce that he has changed 

his will, omitting all mention of the name of 
Clintock.” Here was the day she had been 

dreading all her life, and it was Billy who 
had hastened it. 

“Euphemia,” said James, routing Nelly, 
the cat, from the most comfortable chair, and 
heavily sitting thereon, “I have changed my 
mind.” 

Euphemia twisted her apron. “Oh, James, 
dear,” she pleaded, “don’t do that!” 

“Oh,” said James maliciously, “so you don’t 
want me to take Jimmy back?” 

Euphemia’s countenance was transformed. 
“Oh, James,” she gasped, “if you only would 1” 

“Where is Jimmy?” asked the magnate. 

“He’s—he’s—studying up-stairs,” qua- 


Uncle James Wages the Price War 137 

vered Euphemia. “I’ll get him”; and she 
ran up to wake Jimmy, who was luxuriating 
in late hours, the melancholy consolation of 
the jobless. Uncle James further demanded 
Billy, and Billy was produced. 

Jimmy, after a hasty toilet, stood blinking 
before Uncle James. Billy towered over 
him, leaning against the door. How big that 
boy was getting! 

“Now,” said Uncle James, “we ’ll get down 
to brass tacks. Here’s my proposition. 
Jimmy can come back to the business if Billy 
leaves this house.” 

Billy made no sign that he had heard. He 
felt that this was not his affair. If the family 
wanted to get rid of him, he would go. 

“But—but we can’t turn Billy out,” 
stammered Euphemia, vaguely feeling that 
but for her meals Billy would starve. 

“Very well,” said James, “don’t”; and he 
reached for his hat. 

“Oh, wait a moment, James,” wailed 
Euphemia. “Maybe you ’ll forgive Billy. 
He feels so badly about having offended you. 
Don’t you, Billy?” 



138 


Uncle James Shoes 


“No,” said Billy, “I don’t.” 

Uncle James not merely reached for his 
hat; he picked it up. Euphemia, always 
quick of temper, turned on Billy. “Billy, 
I’ve stood enough from you,” she raged, “and 
I’m not going to ruin Jimmy’s life by stand¬ 
ing any more. If you can’t be respectful to 
your Uncle James you can go. I’m through 
with you.” 

Billy looked at his mother but said nothing. 
If, to gratify Uncle James’s whim, she would 
cast him off, he had no wish to stay with her. 

“In that case,” said James, taking out his 
watch, “Jimmy comes back.” 

Billy’s dark eyes moved to Jimmy’s face. 
He roused himself and spoke. “Jimmy,” 
he said, “if you ’ll work with me I ’ll pay you 
twice what Uncle James pays you. And 
you ’ll be free—free to go and come as you 
like and to call Uncle James a beastly black¬ 
guard.” 

“As if he’d want to!” shrieked Euphemia. 

“Choose!” said James. 

Jimmy gave his brother a black look. His 


Uncle James Wages the Price War 139 

heart had been in his mouth when he had 
heard Billy utter the expression Jimmy was 
accustomed to apply, in private, to Uncle 
James. “I choose Uncle James and a re¬ 
spectable life,” he said. 

“I thought you would,” said James. 
Again he took out his watch. “We ’ll go 
back to the office together.” Jimmy had had 
no breakfast, but he went meekly for his hat 
and followed Uncle James out of the house. 

Euphemia went into the kitchen. Billy 
stood where he was, thinking. He decided 
that his family could get along without the 
money he paid them for board, so long as it 
usually went to Uncle James, anyway. As 
for him, it would be cheaper to live away 
from home. He did not mind leaving 
particularly, but he wished his mother had 
not been so ready to choose between him and 
James. He rather thought that if he had a 
son he would not turn him away no matter 
how deeply he was annoyed with him. Well, 
the Uncle James idea was twisted into the 
very fiber of Euphemia’s being. 


140 Uncle James Shoes 

Euphemia came back and casually dusted 
the sitting-room. “You know you can always 
come home to dinner,” she remarked. 

“Thank you,” said Billy expressionlessly. 

Euphemia poked her duster through the 
scrolls at the top of the sofa. “After all,” she 
argued aloud, “plenty of boys leave home at 
your age. And it is n’t as if you’d be out of 
reach of help. If Jimmy gets the money I ’ll 
see that he lets you have an allowance, though 
you don’t deserve it I” 

“Please thank Jimmy for me,” said Billy. 

Euphemia was not unmindful of Billy’s 
irony. “Well, I can tell you it ’ll be no joke 
for Jimmy,” she said with heat. “With you 
and Martha both on his hands, he ’ll have 
a time of it even if he gets all of James’s 
money. Jimmy’s been a good boy, and he 
deserves to have a little pleasure out of his 
money, after he’s worked so hard. And a 
lot of thanks he ’ll get for giving half of it to 
you and Martha!” 

Billy prepared to leave. “I’m storing up 
a reservoir of gratitude,” he said, “to let loose 
on Jimmy on the day when I get the first 


Uncle James Wages the Price War 141 

instalment of my allowance.” He left the 
room. A second later he came back. “Don’t 
worry about me, Mother,” he said, putting his 
arm around her shoulder. “I ’ll get along 
first rate.” 

Euphemia burst into tears and clung to 
him. Billy was the only man of the family 
that she ever felt like clinging to. “I 
could nt let you spoil Jimmy’s chances,” she 
sobbed. 

“No, of course not,” said Billy hurriedly, 
patting her shoulder. 

“James always was a brute,” gasped 
Euphemia. 

Billy left the house and went to his room 
in the barn. He packed his clothes and the 
few other things he cared to take with him in 
an old trunk. He went down-stairs and 
looked around at his lathe and other pieces 
of machinery. It would be something of a 
job carting them away. 

Billy jumped into one of the cars he had 
on hand and started off to a place on the 
shore road that he thought he might be able 
to get. He had always considered it a good 


142 


Uncle James Shoes 


buy. The house had burned down, but the 
barn was still standing. Billy looked it over 
and decided that a tar-paper roof would make 
it tight, and that a little carpentry work 
would put it into shape. The barn faced 
the road, and the land behind it—about an 
acre—went down to the inlet. It was a good 
place to keep motor-boats. Billy decided that 
he could add to his income by storing boats in 
the winter. He went up-stairs into the harness- 
room and figured that it could be made into 
a first-rate home. He was used to living in 
a barn. He would bring his stove over, set 
it up down-stairs, and let it heat the whole 
place. There was a nice view from the 
harness-room, a view of land and sea. He’d 
enjoy that. He had never lived with a view 
before. Billy began to feel quite at home. 
Well, he ’d better find out if he could get it 
before he did any more planning. Perhaps 
the owner, Mrs. Ward, would not hear of 
selling it. 

Billy went back to the village and rang 
the bell of Mrs. Ward’s well groomed little 


Uncle James Wages the Price War 143 

house. Mrs. Ward allowed him to enter with 
the tentative manner of one who reserved the 
right to turn him out at any moment. 

“Mrs. Ward,” said Billy, sweeping off his 
hat, “I’d like to know if you ’d consider 
selling that barn of yours over on the inlet.” 

Mrs. Ward hesitated, and then, as was her 
habit, said what was on her mind. “I 
would n’t sell except for cash.” Evidently 
she thought that closed the subject. 

“How much are you asking for it, Mrs. 
Ward?” asked Billy. 

“Well,” answered Mrs. Ward, “I guess I’d 
let it go at five hundred dollars, though it’s 
worth more.” 

“There ’s an acre of land, I take it,” said 
Billy. 

“About that,” agreed Mrs. Ward. 

“And it is n’t mortgaged?” 

“No, there’s not a cent of mortgage on 
it. Don’t suppose I could have got it 
mortgaged if I’d tried.” 

“I ’ll take it,” said Billy. 

Mrs. Ward was nonplussed. That Clintock 


144 


Uncle James Shoes 


boy could not afford to pay five hundred 
dollars for a barn. “What’s the matter with 
your own barn?” she asked. 

“I’m leaving home,” said Billy briefly. 

Mrs. Ward received the news in silence. 
She knew Euphemia Clintock well and 
guessed she was the reason Billy was leaving 
home. That Jimmy did not amount to much, 
either. She began to take a little interest in 
Billy. Nevertheless, she must not let friend¬ 
ship interfere with business. “You expect to 
pay cash?” she asked. 

“I ’ll write you a check now,” said Billy. 
He happened to have a particularly good 
balance at the bank just then. 

“Well,” said Mrs. Ward, “you ’re one of 
those that is n’t long about making up their 
minds. But if you ’re sure you want the barn 
I s’pose it is n’t for me to argue about it. It’s 
a good solid barn, even if it is old. Come to 
think of it, your own grandfather—no, he was 
your great-grandfather—Silas Clintock built 
it, and what old Silas built he built to stay.” 

“I knew that barn was well built,” said 
Billy proudly, “and it’s got good timber in 




Uncle James Wages the Price War 145 

it. Suppose we go right down to the town 
hall now and have Mr. Woodhall make out 
the papers?” 

Half an hour later the barn was Billy’s. 
An hour after that, Billy’s trunk and some of 
his machinery had been moved in. A month 
later the roof of the barn had been covered 
with tar-paper and the machinery was going 
full force. Moreover, there was a good load 
of wood in the feed-room, and several shelves 
full of books in Billy’s bedroom. Billy was 
prepared for the winter. 

At first Billy was a little lonely, but after 
a while he began to enjoy his solitude. He 
developed a passion for reading, went through 
most of the books in the Stormville library, 
and bought others that he saw advertised. 
One seemed to lead to another, an endless 
chain. Billy swallowed everything—history, 
chemistry, fiction, mechanics, art, and travel. 
Sometimes he would hold three books in his 
lap while he read a fourth, he was so anxious 
to read them all at once. The books that 
Persis had chanced to mention to him he kept 
separately on a shelf. Persis was still the 



146 


Uncle James Shoes 


center of his existence, though he never heard 
from her. He knew that she was in college, 
and he subscribed to the local paper of the 
college town in the hope of seeing some news 
of her, but he was determined not to write to 
her but to do his part to keep the promise she 
had made to her father. 

Most of his days Billy gave to his work, 
which was steadily branching out. He was 
beginning to get something of a reputation 
around Stormville. He was willing to buy 
almost anything that anybody wanted to sell, 
and he could usually supply people with any¬ 
thing they wanted to buy. Moreover, people 
soon found out that Billy’s things were just 
what he declared them to be. 

Billy traveled thirty or forty miles to buy 
cars and motor-boats. He went to all the 
auctions, with especial attention to those held 
in the winter-time when the city people were 
happily absent. His biggest bargain was a 
car that had been in a fire and had fallen from 
the second story of a barn, to be left out on 
the snow all winter. Old Moses Beacon 
nearly laughed his head off when it was 


Uncle James Wages the Price War 147 

knocked down to Billy for fifteen dollars. 
“I expect that kid thinks he’s going to make 
a Rolls-Royce out of that heap of tin cans,” 
he chuckled. Even Billy did not think much 
of the wreck. He had merely hoped to get 
some spare parts out of it. But when he 
towed it to his barn and looked it over he 
found that a little coaxing made the engine 
run. True, the machine needed a new bat¬ 
tery, new wheels, seat-covers, and top; but 
after these had been supplied and a coat of 
paint added Billy found that he had a first- 
rate car for sale. He sold it in April for two 
hundred and fifty dollars. 

By spring Billy’s business was getting so 
large that he hired a man to help him. He 
figured that he would be able to afford to 
marry and build a house by the following 
autumn; in fact, his favorite occupation of 
an evening was to design houses featuring 
breakfast-porches facing the sea. His hopes 
were high, his resources mounting—and then 
came trouble. 

Billy had seen a good deal of Martha and 
Paul, and had had more than a finger in 


148 


Uncle James Shoes 


starting the new business. Paul was a 
straightforward young Canadian, with an 
enormous capacity for work. He had started 
his cannery on comparatively little capital, 
but had cut down expenses to the bone. The 
can-labels, for instance, were printed in one 
color only—black. But the design was effec¬ 
tive, nevertheless: silhouettes of lobsters, 
crabs, and fishes on orange paper. Paul felt 
that his labels were far better-looking than 
the elaborate three-color labels of the Peters 
cannery, representing a wooden family in 
costumes of 1895 gathered, with knives and 
forks upright, around a sea-food dinner. 

Billy, Paul, and Martha had gone over 
every process in the new plant, which was 
established about two miles out of Stormville, 
and had cut down every item of waste in 
material or routine that they could discover. 
And then, just as *.the cannery turned out its 
first batch of canned codfish, came the great 
price war. 

The war began when the Peters cannery 
made a drastic cut in prices with the obvious 
intention of making trouble for the Street 


Uncle James Wages the Price War 149 

cannery. Within a week other big canneries 
along the coast reduced prices. Before a 
month had passed the price of canned fish 
had come down all over the East, and 
Martha’s marriage to Paul was influencing 
breakfast-tables as far west as the Mississippi. 

Simultaneously came a price war in buy¬ 
ing. The fishermen rejoiced. James Peters 
was giving them enormous prices. Here, 
however, Paul had prepared his line of 
defense. He had made a six months’ con¬ 
tract with certain fishermen, who were 
supplying him with all the sea-food he could 
can. Billy’s favorite recreation those days, 
when he could spare the time for recreation, 
was fishing. He sold his fish to his uncle’s 
agent. 

Paul, Billy, and Martha held frequent con¬ 
sultations. Paul calculated that if he sold at 
the prevailing prices his capital would be 
gone by August. Thereupon Billy gave him 
the drastic advice not to sell at all. “I ’ll put 
two thousand dollars into the business,” he 
said, “and take stock for it, and you store your 
stuff until prices go up. They ’ll have to 


150 Uncle James Shoes 

sooner or later.” So Paul kept on producing 
and storing. By July he was out of money 
again and was forced to sell some of his 
canned goods. But every can that went that 
way meant so much wasted capital. Billy 
could not stand it. “I ’ll squeeze up another 
two thousand,” he said. “This can’t keep up 
forever.” 

Billy sold out virtually all his investments. 
He had only eight hundred dollars left. And 
still the price war raged. By the beginning 
of September Paul was again at the end of 
his resources, and with a new responsibility 
on his hands: there was a baby coming. 
“I’m about at the end, Billy,” he said one 
day. He looked ten years older than he had 
a year before. “I guess he’s forced me to 
the wall. I can’t keep on canning, but I’ve 
still got to buy fish. My contracts won’t be 
up for two months more. All I can do is to 
get what I can for the plant and stock; and 
it won’t be much with prices the way they 
are.” 

“Paul,” said Billy, “don’t you give up till 


Uncle Jernes Wages the Price War 151 

the last gasp. The other people are prob¬ 
ably just as much up against it as we are. I 
bet prices will go up again before the month’s 
out.” 

“Yes, but suppose they don’t,” argued Paul. 
“I don’t want to be a quitter, but sometimes 
it’s better to quit than to keep on throwing 
good money after bad. Maybe the best thing 
for me to do is to save what I can from the 
wreck while there’s something left to save. 
I must have a little on hand when the baby’s 
born.” 

Billy was silent. After a pause he said 
almost to himself, “I can’t bear to have all 
that work and thought and money wasted.” 

Paul shrugged and turned away. “Lord 
knows I’m not pleased at the thought,” he 
said, “I slaved ten years for the capital that 
that plant was started on.” 

Billy began to calculate his resources. 
“There’s a little juice in the old orange yet,” 
he decided. “I can let you have eight hun¬ 
dred dollars.” 

It was all he had left, and Paul knew it. 


152 


Uncle James Shoes 


“I can’t take it, Billy,” he said. “You ’ll be 
stranded if I do. I’m not going to let you 
bankrupt yourself out of charity.” 

“There’s no charity about it,” said Billy 
indignantly. “Do you think I’d put a cent 
in the cannery if I did n’t believe in it? It’s 
a good little plant, and it’s efficiently run, 
and I can’t stand seeing it go to pieces. I 
tell you, Paul, if you keep on going and hold 
on to your stock you ’ll be in clover in another 
month.” 

The eight hundred dollars went into the 
plant, and the wheels kept on turning. 
October drew near, and there were no signs 
of price recovery. The trade papers printed 
editorials on the situation, showing by care¬ 
ful figures that canned sea-food could not be 
sold at such prices with any profit. 

October 11 was to have been his wedding- 
day. The date had been before Billy’s eyes 
all the year. A week before it came he wrote 
to Persis at the college. It was only a short 
note; Billy felt too badly to be able to put 
his feelings into words. So he simply told 
her that he could not afford to marry for an- 


Uncle James Wages the Price War 153 

other year at least—a stiff little sentence or 
two. 

Billy mailed his letter and went out to the 
simple house Paul and Martha had leased 
near the cannery. Martha was sewing in the 
living-room, visiting with a friend who had 
dropped in, and so Paul and Billy went into 
one of the bedrooms to talk. They had kept 
the worst of the situation from Martha, but 
now that the crash was coming she would 
have to know it. 

“Well, we’ve done the best we could,” said 
Paul, ready to face disaster, since there 
seemed to be no way to avoid it. 

“And just those little green dangles over 
the ears,” came the voice of the visitor in the 
next room. 

“I suppose I can get a job in a factory some¬ 
where,” Paul went on. 

“Come and work with me, Paul,” urged 
Billy. “I got you into this. I did n’t have 
sense enough to see that you can’t put over 
everything by nrain force. But I swear I ’ll 
make it up to you. I ’ll live on bread and 
cheese till I do.” 



154 


Uncle James Shoes 


“And they run as bad as any other kind,” 
complained the visitor. “And I say it’s no 
use paying more for them when they don’t 
wear no better; that’s what I say.” 

“Lord, man, I’m the one to make it up to 
you,” objected Paul. “Don’t think I ’ll take 
anything more from you. You ought to be 
saving up to get married some day.” 

“Not a while yet,” said Billy with tightened 
lips. 

“Got somebody picked out?” asked Paul, 
feeling his way. Billy was not one to share 
his most intimate thoughts, and Paul had a 
certain curiosity about what was going on in¬ 
side his brother-in-law’s head. 

“Yes,” admitted Billy, “but I wrote her to¬ 
day that we’d have to put it off another year.” 

“Anybody I know?” prodded Paul. 

“No,” said Billy. “Now about that weld¬ 
ing-machine. You could sell that to—” 

“Oh, he just works us to death,” complained 
the visitor, “and it’s been worse than ever 
since you left. James Peters is the meanest 
man alive.” Billy and Paul stopped talking, 
both suddenly remembering that the girl in 



Uncle Janies Wages the Price War 155 
the next room worked in the office of the 

i 

Peters cannery. 

“Last night he kept us till half-past seven 
writing letters about the price changes. And 
it is n’t as if we got good pay. Why, I’m 
only getting—” 

“Then, you ’re going to change prices,” 
interrupted Martha, trying to keep her voice 
steady. “I suppose there’s going to be an in¬ 
crease?” 

“Oh, I forget. I never pay much attention 
to what I write when it’s only a business 
letter,” answered the visitor. “Yes, I think 
it was an increase. Or a decrease. Say, 
Martha, did I tell you about the jersey dress 
my mother just made me? It’s to wear at the 
office, you know, and it’s real swell. Where’s 
a piece of paper? I ’ll show you just how 
she fixed it.” 

“I’d like to hear about the price changes,” 
prompted Martha. 

“Say, honestly,” marveled her friend, “if 
that is n’t just like you. Here you ’re out of 
the old business and lucky enough to be 
married, and still you go harping on it. I ’ll 



156 


XJncle James Shoes 


say if I was married and any one said canned 
fish to me, he ’d get some thrown at him.” 

“Well, it was an increase, was n’t it?” 
begged Martha. 

“I guess so,” replied the visitor absently. 
“If it makes you happy I ’ll say so, anyway. 
The letter began, ‘In view of the extraordinary 
something-or-other.’ And I swear I left out 
the ‘a’ in extraordinary every other time. 
That’s me all over. Once I get a thing in 
my head wrong you could chop it off with¬ 
out getting it out. My mother says she’s 
like to die every time I say ‘gabardine,’ when 
I mean ‘brilliantine.’ Now, just let me show 
you how she fixed that dress. I look real 
cute in it, if I do say so myself. Here—I’ve 
got some paper in my bag. I always stuff in 
the letters I spoil, or old lynx-eye would see 
’em torn up and raise the roof. She just cut 
it with kimono sleeves, like that, and then she 
gathered up that extra fullness on the hips 
into a kind of ball, and put a button in the 
middle so it looks sort of like a flower, and 
then put the belt down here—” 

Billy and Paul looked into each other’s 



Uncle James Wages the Price War 157 

eyes. “If he increases, the rest will follow,” 
said Paul in a low voice. “They ’re all ready 
to jump the minute the first one starts going 
up.” 

“We ’ll hang on another week,” whispered 
Billy. 

“Say, I can’t sit around all day.” The 
visitor seemed to be rising. “My mother she 
says I never come home when I’ve got any 
other place at all to go to, and I guess she’s 
right. She said to me this morning, ‘Now, 
don’t you go anywheres on your way home to¬ 
night,’ and here I am. What time does that 
trolley go by? O Lord, I’ve got to run. 
Where’s my hat, anyway? Good-by 
Martha. Excuse this haste. Seems to me 
I’m always in a hurry. If I miss that trolley 
my mother ’ll kill me.” There were sounds 
of hurried departure, and a second later the 
flash of a bright-green sweater at the window 
as the visitor sped past on her life-and-death 
race with the trolley. 

Billy and Paul went into the sitting-room. 
“Did you hear?” cried Martha. “It looks 
like an increase!” 


Uncle James Shoes 


1 5 8 

Billy picked up the sketch of the visitor’s 
new dress. “Don’t tell me she’s going to 
wear that!” he protested. “Well, she may be 
a dressmaker, but she’s no draftsman.” He 
turned the paper over. “Listen to this!” he 
cried. “Form letter from the Peters can¬ 
nery.” He read it hastily to himself. “The 
Lord be praised,” he exulted. “Paul, you ’re 
reprieved. Come down from the gallows a 
free man. The Peters cannery is putting 
prices way up because of ‘extrordinary’ in¬ 
creases—spelled without the ‘a,’ bless her 
heart.” 


CHAPTER IX 


RANDOLPH EXPLAINS 

u 1 REELING toward Billy as you do—” 
Iri Randolph paused as though the words 
-A- had been hard to speak before he 
finished hurriedly: “I can understand why 
you expected me to defend him. Perhaps I 
should have.” 

“Of course you should have,” returned 
Persis, but she added a moment later, “if you 
knew that the things Uncle James said were 
not true.” 

“Exactly,” agreed Randolph. 

Persis did not fail to understand, but she 
had no intention of making Randolph’s ex¬ 
planations easy. She had not yet forgiven 
Randolph. It was near the end of her fresh¬ 
man year at college, and so far she had had no 
conversation with him beyond passing greet¬ 
ings. For a moment she wondered how she 

159 



160 


Uncle James Shoes 


had come to accept this invitation to take tea 
with him at the Wayside Inn. Then she 
remembered the argument that had persuaded 
her. It was not just, Randolph had said, to 
end their friendship without hearing his ex¬ 
planations. So she had agreed to hear what 
he had to say. In all her dealings Persis was 
strictly just. 

The tea arrived, attended by buttery toasted 
muffins under cover. A tea-pot, gay with 
birds that would have brought tears to the 
eyes of a milliner, was set before Persis. She 
poured the tea silently. She saw that Ran¬ 
dolph wanted her to speak, but she determined 
not to. She would not be the first to suggest 
that what had been said about Billy might 
be true. 

“If the accusations had not been true,” 
Randolph, said at last, “and I had known it, 
my silence would have been inexcusable.” 

“Lemon?” asked Persis. 

“And one lump,” inclined Randolph. 

Randolph uncovered the muffins and passed 
them. Persis began to eat without speaking. 
She refused to make his task easy. 


Randolph Explains 161 

“For your sake I am willing to believe that 
they were not true/’ said Randolph suddenly. 

“Tell me exactly what you mean,” ordered 
Persis. 

He thought a moment, then spoke delib¬ 
erately. “When I go over in my mind all I 
know of Billy Clintock I realize that I cannot 
positively say that there is anything against 
him. Therefore I should have defended 
him. You were right.” 

“But at the time you thought Uncle James 
was right when he called Billy disreputable?” 
asked Persis crisply. 

“The Clintock name has not the best repu¬ 
tation at the cannery,” returned Randolph 
guardedly. “There are, naturally, many 
girls there of unsavory reputation. I’ve 
heard in an offhand way that one of those 
Clintock boys runs around with them. But 
I cannot truthfully say that I have heard any¬ 
thing definite against Billy.” Randolph 
spoke sincerely, and he was sincere. He had 
taken it for granted that Billy was like 
Jimmy, but he felt that there was a chance 
that he was mistaken. Certainly Billy looked 


162 


Uncle James Shoes 


clean. With Persis opposite .him, evidently 
in a thawing mood, Randolph felt that he 
could afford to be generous to Billy. 

“Randolph,” said Persis frankly, “I Ve 
been unfair to you. I can see that you 
could n’t do anything else under the circum¬ 
stances. Only,” she added seriously, “I want 
you to know positively that Billy is—is 
splendid. He’s fine and upright and fastid¬ 
ious. If you knew Billy better you ’d know 
how wonderful he is.” 

He let it go at that. Of course she was 
still in love with Billy, but as she grew older 
she ’d want something more than this rough 
country boy could give her. He stopped 
talking about Billy and called her attention 
to the sweep of the hills, the misty green of 
the willows. The tea-party was a success. 

During the rest of the college year Persis 
saw little of Randolph, but their relations 
were on a new and friendlier basis. When 
they met casually it was with a more intimate 
recognition. Randolph believed in making 
haste slowly. 

The summer of the great price war in 


Randolph Explains 163 

Stormville Persis spent in a series of visits. 
Her father was too busy to take a vacation, 
and so Persis spent a week-end here and an¬ 
other there, and returned to the apartment in 
New York, in the East Eighties, between 
visits. It was a life full of new pictures and 
quick adjustments to different ways of living. 
It seemed to Persis as though she were meeting 
people endlessly and never getting to know 
any of them. She seemed to have entered a 
new life remote from the old one. It 
surprised her one day to discover that she 
could not remember the name of one of her 
college friends. It was with a greater shock 
that she found that for an instant Billy’s last 
name escaped her. It came to her in a 
second—Clintock, of course—but not before 
she had felt a sudden sharp distrust of her¬ 
self. This must not be! Why, the name was 
to be hers in a few months. 

But September came and passed, and there 
was no word from Billy. Billy was in the 
midst of the price war. His letter came 
early in October—a hurried, colorless note 
scarcely reflecting his harassed state. Be- 




164 Uncle James Shoes 

tween the pain of writing Persis that he could 
not afford to marry and the constant worry 
over affairs at the cannery he somehow did 
not make it clear that he loved her as much 
as ever. Persis wondered. 

By the time her sophomore year was over 
Persis found that Randolph had come to 
absorb a larger and larger share of her in¬ 
terest. She had begun specializing in astron¬ 
omy, partly because he urged it and partly 
because astronomy appealed to her, and there 
had been plenty of opportunity for intimate 
talks. Persis had enjoyed getting to know 
Randolph better. He was interesting to talk 
to, and it was something of a relief to turn to 
a man after being nearly stifled with so many 
girls. Nevertheless, it was with a feeling of 
escape that Persis went back to the New York 
apartment when the college year closed. 
She had been uneasy, she admitted, at Ran¬ 
dolph’s slow encroachments. It had been 
.hard to resist the temptation of seeing a good 
deal of him, yet she felt sure that their friend¬ 
ship had gone far enough. Already it had 
become a standing joke at college, where 


Randolph Explains 165 

Randolph was always under the watchful 
scrutiny of hundreds of pairs of curious eyes. 

,had not seen her father since the 
Christmas vacation. He had been at the 
mines at Easter-time, and so she had not gone 
home. She found him changed. He looked 
older and seemed worriedly abstracted. 

“What’s happened to you, Daddy?” she 
asked one morning at breakfast. “You don’t 
seem well.” 

Hamilton started. “Oh, I’m all right,” 
he said hastily. “Don’t you worry about me.” 
But in a moment he grew abstracted again 
and drummed on the table with his knuckles, 
staring blankly at the table-cloth. Persis 
watched him covertly. Something certainly 
was wrong. Business, she supposed. Her 
father never told her anything about his busi¬ 
ness affairs from some mistaken notion that 
they would worry her. 

The maid brought in an unusually large 
pile of letters. Persis looked them over and 
recognized the writing of some of the girls 
at college. What possessed them all to write 
to her at once? She ripped open the first 


166 


Uncle James Shoes 


letter and read it through silently. Though 
its content was startling, Persis character¬ 
istically read it again without a word. Still 
silently she opened the second letter. The 
same amazing contents. But the second letter 
provided a clue. From it dropped a news¬ 
paper clipping. 

“Father!” cried Persis, her color rising, 
“isn’t this outrageous? It’s reported I’m 
engaged to Randolph. It’s in the ‘Adviser’ 
—the town newspaper up there—in the Col¬ 
lege News column. Isn’t that the most 
abominable thing?” 

She was surprised at her father’s lack of 
indignation. He was startled, but not an¬ 
noyed. Persis rose and flung the letters back 
on the table. “It’s outrageous,” she re¬ 
peated. She wanted her father to share her 
indignation, but he seemed strangely apathe¬ 
tic. “Don’t you think it’s horrid, Daddy?” 
she prodded. 

“I’m sorry—it isn’t true,” said Hamilton. 

Persis stood amazed. She had supposed 
he would always be indignant at the sugges¬ 
tion that she might marry any one—he was 



167 


Randolph Explains 

that kind of a parent—yet here he was 
actually wanting her engaged. “Why, what 
in the world do you mean?” she asked in a 
changed voice. “Do you w\ant me to be en¬ 
gaged to Randolph?” 

Hamilton pushed back his chair. “I sup¬ 
pose I ’ve got to tell you some time,” he said. 
“I’m—I’m in a pretty bad way. The mines 
are n’t doing well. I’m afraid they ’ll have 
to shut down.” 

“For Heaven’s sake!” said Persis in a 
matter-of-fact tone. She sat down on the 
arm of his chair. “Well, don’t you worry, 
Daddy,” she said. “We can economize. 
How bad is it?” 

“I’m in pretty deep,” answered Hamilton. 
“I’ve been putting up the money myself to 
keep things going. I could n’t believe the 
mines were played out. 

“Well—” he rose, “there’s just a chance 
we ’ll pull through. There’s going to be an 
expert report to-day.” 

“What will it mean if we don’t pull 
through?” asked Persis soberly. 

“Oh, we ’ll keep going,” he assured her. 




168 


Uncle James Shoes 


“I ’ll look for something else. But we ’ll 
have to move, anyhow, and I’m afraid you ’ll 
have to give up college. Don’t you worry, 
anyhow.” 

But later in the morning, after her father 
had gone to the office, Persis found that she 
was worrying. “It’s the uncertainty that’s 
so upsetting,” she thought. “If I knew every¬ 
thing was all over I’d go right out and look 
for a job; but here I’m all keyed up to do 
something, and there’s nothing to do.” She 
felt as though she were wandering in circles, 
trying to use up the energy that the emergency 
had awakened. 

About twelve o’clock the telephone rang, 
and Randolph Kelsey was announced. In¬ 
stead of being dismayed, Persis felt relieved. 
Here was some one who would be understand¬ 
ing and helpful. She was not embarrassed at 
the prospect of talking with him about the 
rumor of the engagement. Persis took such 
things in a matter-of-fact fashion. 

Randolph had come to tell her of the 
“Adviser” announcement. “I can’t imagine 
how they ever got such a report about,” 


Randolph Explains 169 

he said a little tensely. “It’s really—quite 
—quite disturbing.” 

“Oh, well, it does n’t matter,” said Persis. 
“We ’ll just deny it, and that ’ll be the end of 
it.” 

“I ’ll write the ‘Adviser’ at once,” said 
Randolph. “I ’ll have it corrected in the 
next issue.” He was silent a moment before 
he added in a low voice, “I’m sorry—it’s not 
true.” 

Persis was as startled as she had been when 
she had heard her father say the same words. 
For an instant she lost her self-possession. 
“Why—why—you don’t—” she stammered. 
Her confusion seemed to steady Randolph. 
He was sitting opposite her, and now he leaned 
forward and took her hands in his long, 
trembling fingers. “Could you ever care for 
me, Persis?” he asked. “Am I anything at 
all to you?” 

Persis looked up at him with her hands 
still in his. “Randolph,” she said, “I do ap¬ 
preciate you, and I’m very grateful for your 
friendship. But—but—Billy and I—we be¬ 
long to each other. I ’ll never feel toward 



170 


Uncle James Shoes 


any one else the way I feel toward Billy.” 

His eyes changed, but he did not drop her 
hands. “But we’ll still be friends?” he 
asked. “Next year, when you ’re back at 
college—” 

“Perhaps I won’t be back,” she interrupted. 
“Father’s in the middle of business troubles. 
1 ’d like to talk to you about it if you don’t 
mind. You ’re just the person who could 
advise me.” She was glad to get back to 
impersonal matters. Besides, here was some 
one of her own generation who understood 
her point of view. 

She explained what she knew of the situa¬ 
tion. Randolph listened intently and was 
emphatic in his advice. “You simply must 
not give up college,” he said. “The next two 
years and a third for your master’s degree will 
mean all the difference between want and 
plenty to you later. Here you have a splendid 
foundation. It would do you no good to 
leave it where it is. Build the rest, Persis. 
Keep on with your astronomy, which you 
love, and I ’ll see that you get a first-rate 


Randolph Explams 171 

position as soon as you leave college. It’s 
work you can always do, whether you marry 
or not, and I Ve talked to you enough to know 
that you ’re not willing to drop everything and 
be supported by your husband.” 

“That’s all very well,” objected Persis, 
“and I agree with you. But it is n’t as if I 
had any choice in the matter. I’m afraid 
Father won’t be able to pay my college bills, 
and I don’t believe I could earn enough to 
put myself through college.” 

“Would you be willing to borrow the 
money?” asked Randolph. “You’d be able 
to pay it back in a few years. With a 
thorough training in astronomy you’d be 
earning two or three times as much as you 
would if you left college now and took some 
casual job. It’s specialization that pays these 
days.” 

Persis considered. “That sounds reason¬ 
able,” she admitted. “How could I go about 
it if I decided to try?” 

“Let me lend it to you,” said Randolph 
quickly. 


172 Uncle James Shoes 

“Why, I don’t believe I could do that,” said 
Persis slowly. “Certainly not a big sum like 
that.” 

“Why not?” asked Randolph. “Is there 
any reason why a member of the faculty 
should n’t finance a promising student? As 
a matter of fact, it has often happened. You 
are unusually good in astronomy; I am in¬ 
terested in your career and feel sure you ’ll 
make a success of it. Let me, simply as a 
member of the faculty, lend you the money.” 

“But it is n’t true, Randolph, that you’d 
be lending it to me as a professor,” protested 
Persis. “You ’re my personal friend.” 

“Exactly,” agreed Randolph, “and there 
you have the real reason why I should do this. 
Let’s put our friendship on a common-sense 
basis and forget that I ever tried to change 
it into something deeper. Have n’t I the 
right, as a friend, to help you? If you heard 
that I had lent the money to some other girl 
to help her through college, you’d be the 
first to stand up for the idea.” 

“Of course,” agreed Persis. 

“Then why are you afraid to take the step 


173 


Randolph Explains 

yourself? We’re all at the beginning of a 
new age in the relationships between men and 
women. Some of us have to be the pioneers, 
ready to accept criticism, if necessary, to help 
the world to see simple matters in a simple 
way. As a matter of fact, though, there’s no 
reason why we should be criticized. No one 
need know about the arrangement.” 

“I hate concealing things,” protested Persis. 
“I could n’t let Daddy know about it, either. 
He’d never hear of my borrowing money 
from you. And, besides, even if I did n’t 
tell him about it how would I explain my 
staying in college on nothing?” 

“Tell him a member of the faculty is 
financing you. Tell him it’s a scholarship— 
we ’ll call it that—something that does n’t 
involve you financially. This need n’t be a 
business arrangement, you know, Persis. I 
don’t want you to give me your notes for the 
money.” 

Persis had not remembered that it was 
customary to give notes for borrowed money, 
but she protested at once: “But I would 
give you notes. It’s only on a strictly busi- 


174 


Uncle James Shoes 


ness basis that I could accept the plan at all.” 

“Well—give me notes if you like,” 
shrugged Randolph. “But—” he smiled— 
“I won’t hold them over you.” 

“Oh, I know that,” laughed Persis, who 
took it for granted that business relations 
were on the same cordial footing as social. 
“I’m not expecting that you ’ll turn me into 
the street among the snowflakes, but all the 
same, I ’ll accept this obligation (if I decide 
to) just as strictly as if I were making it with 
a bank. I ’ll give up everything but actual 
necessities until I pay you back.” 

The telephone rang as she finished. Ab¬ 
sently, with her mind on what he had been 
saying, Persis answered it. She started at the 
words that came through he receiver. “Mr. 
Clintock calling,” droned the switchboard 
operator. 

“Ask—ask him to come up,” gasped Persis. 
“It’s Billy!” she said, turning to Randolph. 
In an instant it came to her that Billy had 
heard the report of her engagement. And he 
would find Randolph with her! For a 
second she felt like the heroine of a French 



Randolph Explains 175 

farce. She almost giggled. But her amuse¬ 
ment was swept aside by the thought that if 
Billy believed the report he must be desolate. 
Poor Billy! 

Randolph, who had risen when she went 
to the telephone, stood silently in the center 
of the room, his head bent, his arms loosely 
folded. Persis reflected that Billy would see 
him as soon as she opened the door of the 
apartment, for a wide double doorway led 
from the entrance-hall into the living-room. 

The bell rang, and Persis opened the door. 
Billy stood outside, an older Billy than she 
had known the year before, with a more 
serious and set expression. Persis put both 
her hands in his, but he seemed to hold her off. 
He was looking beyond her at Randolph. 
Unexpectedly he dropped her hands, came 
in, and closed the door. 

“Are you engaged to Randolph Kelsey?” 
he asked in a low, strained voice. Persis was 
ruffled. His very distrust of her made her 
vehement denial die on her lips. 

“Of course not,” she answered expression¬ 
lessly. 


176 


Uncle James Shoes 


“It was in a paper I take,” said Billy 
stiffly. He had gone through a bitter period 
of uncertainty, and he could not immediately 
get back to his unquestioning faith in Persis. 
He walked into the living-room and stood 
before Randolph. “How did this happen?” 
he asked. 

Randolph was in no hurry to answer. His 
glance of appraisal suggested that Billy was 
intruding. 

“Well?” demanded Billy, his anger rising. 

Persis explained hastily. “But I suppose 
it does n’t make much difference,” she ended. 
“Everybody believed it before, and now that 
it’s denied perhaps they ’ll stop talking.” 

“Why did everybody believe it?” asked 
Billy. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” sighed Persis. “I 
suppose because girls at college are so 
hungry for romance they ’ll cook one up at 
the slightest excuse.” 

“There should n’t have been the slightest 
excuse,” said Billy. 

Randolph smiled. His calmness contrasted 


177 


Randolph Explains 

with Billy’s heat. He had kept aloof from 
the discussion though Billy had tried several 
times to bring him into it. His remoteness 
exasperated Billy. “A teacher in a college 
ought not to have anything to do with the 
girls outside the class-room,” he said. Billy 
had not been brought up in Stormville for 
nothing. 

“How absurd!” cried Persis indignantly. 
“Do you mean to say Randolph should n’t ask 
me to tea or to skate with him?” 

“Not while you ’re his pupil,” said Billy 
doggedly. 

“I never heard such nonsense!” exploded 
Persis. “Why I never dreamed you had those 
provincial ideas.” 

Billy did not like that word “provincial.” 
“I did n’t suppose,” he returned, “that you’d 
enjoy having it reported that you were en¬ 
gaged to Randolph.” 

“It does n’t make the slightest difference to 
me what people say about me,” flashed Persis. 
“It’s such sheer nonsense to restrict the 
perfectly free, natural friendships men and 


178 


Uncle James Shoes 


women can have. I ’ve always believed in 
acting like a sensible human being and letting 
people talk if they wanted to. I thought you 
felt the same way. Why—” she suddenly 
remembered—“you did n’t mind the entirely 
unconventional way I went off on picnics 
with you.” 

“That was different,” said Billy. 

“Well, I don’t see it,” retorted Persis, “and 
if we ’re ever going to be happily married 
you ’ll have to get used to the idea that I 
don’t expect to live in a harem. Why, it 
never occurred to me that you had these out¬ 
worn, old-fashioned ideas.” 

Billy was a little taken off his feet. He 
had never examined the standards he had been 
brought up with. Nevertheless, he was not 
ready to give them up at a moment’s notice. 
“And I say,” he retorted, “that if we ’re going 
to be happily married you ’ll have to give up 
philandering with other men.” 

Persis did not see that Billy’s jealousy 
arose from the distrust of her that had entered 
his thoughts in the black hours when he had 



Randolph Explains 179 

believed that she was engaged to Randolph. 
She did not see that if they had not been 
separated by months of silence he would not 
have believed the report. All she saw was 
that hateful word “philandering.” “I don’t 
think you need to say anything more, Billy,” 
she said evenly. 

Billy stood silent a moment. The instant 
he had spoken he had known that he had been 
unjust. He believed that self-control was a 
fundamental virtue. Why had he lost his 
temper—and with Persis? It was unpardon¬ 
able. It never occurred to him to excuse him¬ 
self by pointing to the sleepless nights he had 
passed, to his terrific headache or the black 
hours of hopelessness he had been through. 
Billy was not one to palliate his sins. “Per¬ 
haps—perhaps—” he stammered, “if I could 
see you alone—without any interference— 
we’d straighten things out.” 

But Persis was still angry. “I don’t see 
that Randolph has been precisely interfering,” 
she remarked. 

Billy looked at Randolph, so maddeningly 






180 


Uncle James Shoes 


impeccable in his attitude of aloofness. 
“Randolph’s speciality is keeping quiet,” he 
observed. 

Persis understood. “Randolph has ex¬ 
plained that to me,” she said curtly. 

Randolph stirred and held out his hand 
to Persis. “I’m afraid I have n’t helped 
things any,” he said gently. “I ’ll leave 
Billy to ‘straighten things out.’ Good-by.” 
It was a long hand-clasp. Persis reacted. 
During the last hour she had told Randolph 

that she loved Billy and Billy alone, and 
on top of it he had come to her rescue with his 
generous offer to put her through college. 
It was only just to show Randolph that she 
appreciated him. “Will you come again this 
evening?” she asked, “I want to finish what 
we were talking about.” 

Billy started. “I ’ll go at once,” he said. 
“I did n’t realize that I had interrupted you.” 
Quickly he took her hand—the hand that used 
to respond instantly to the vibration of his 
clasp, and that now lay cold in his. “Good- 
by,” he said. He had gone before Persis 
could reach the door. She had intended to 



Randolph Explains 181 

say one last word to him, something that 
would show him that down beneath her anger 
she still loved him, but he had not lingered 
on the way out. 

Randolph left very soon. There was no life 
to their talk after Billy had gone. Persis 
went back to her room, dropped on the bed, 
and sobbed. She felt as though her world 
was crashing about her head. Could it be 
possible that her adored Billy was nothing but 
a narrow-minded country boy? But she 
reacted instantly from that thought. Billy 
was able to face any question squarely. 
Open-mindedness was the essential, not any 
particular opinion. If they had simply talked 
over some of these ideas of hers when they 
were both dispassionate and impersonal, of 
course he’d have understood. She began to 
see dimly that Billy would not be jealous once 
he knew that she loved him and him alone. 
Still Billy was that dark, intense type that in 
all her literary experience stood for jealousy. 
Who ever heard of a jealous blond? She her¬ 
self was a blond, and she was not jealous. 
She would not mind in the least if Billy took 


182 


Uncle James Shoes 


tea at an inn with another girl. But if she 
heard that he was engaged to her? Well, that 
would be a blow. Poor Billy! He must 
have suffered before he heard the truth. She 
would write to him to-morrow. 

But her letter turned out to be one of those 
tragic ones that belong in a heartbreaking 
volume of blank pages—a letter that never 
was written. And Billy’s letter to her was 
one of an equally tragic collection, a letter that 
ought to have remained unwritten. That 
evening David Hamilton broke the news that 
the business had crumbled. The report of 
the specialists had been the final blow to the 
tottering structure. “I Ve saved up enough 
for us to scrape along on,” he told Persis, 
“but you ’ll have to leave college. Thank 
God, you won’t have to go into an office some¬ 
where. We ’ll have to skimp, but you ’ll be 
in your own home, not slaving for some one 
else.” 

The words brought no sense of thankful¬ 
ness to Persis. She felt that it would be much 
more lively to work outside the home than in 
it. Her youthful energy would be cramped 



Randolph Explains 183 

inside the narrow walls of an apartment. 
Poor Daddy! Always struggling to give her 
something she did not want. He had a touch 
of the harem idea himself. He wanted to 
keep his daughter from any real contact with 
the world. 

That night Persis lay awake reconstructing 
her universe. Before she slept she decided to 
accept Randolph’s advice. She felt sure that 
it was sound. 

The next morning’s mail brought a tactful, 
friendly letter from Randolph renewing his 
offer of help. How devoted he was! Persis 
reflected. No one ever had a truer friend. 
It was while she was in this mood that she 
opened Billy’s letter, the letter that should 
never have been written. Billy made no 
attempt to find excuses for himself. “I can 
hardly believe it was I who spoke to you that 
way to-day,” he wrote. “I ’ll never forgive 
myself. And you were right when you said 
that my ideas are provincial. I don’t suppose 
they could be anything else. I ’ll try to look 
fairly at every opinion you hold, dearest, and 
be convinced if I possibly can be. There 


184 


Unde James Shoes 


can’t be any real barrier between us. I sup¬ 
pose I’m too given to feeling that I’m a kind 
of old breakwater that must protect you from 
the full force of the waves. Of course there 
is n’t any real reason why you should n’t meet 
your own problems in your own way if you 
want to. All the same, Persis, one thing I’ve 
got to get off my chest. Don’t be taken in by 
Randolph. I hate to go behind him in this 
way, but I’ve known him ever since he was 
a kid cheating us smaller boys out of our 
marbles, and I know he’s no good, back of all 
his brains and manners.” 

Persis crumpled the letter. After the way 
Randolph had acted in a crisis she was not 
willing to hear anything against him. She 
would write and tell Billy what Randolph 
had done. But on second thoughts she 
realized that Billy, with his Stormville stand¬ 
ards, would never, never, understand. What 
was the use of trying to explain? Billy’s dis¬ 
trust of Randolph would prejudice him. So 
she put off writing, and in the end did not 
write at all. Now that she had to think seri¬ 
ously of supporting herself, she could not con- 


Randolph Explains 185 

sider marrying for the present. Perhaps she 
ought to break her engagement to Billy. But 
she could not bear to do that. She would just 
let things drift. Perhaps her problems would 
solve themselves. 

Billy, back in Stormville, looked for her 
letter every day. At first he could not believe 
that she did not intend to write, but after two 
weeks he ceased to be the first comer at the 
post-office window. Evidently Persis had 
nothing to say to him. Billy took her silence 
as his dismissal. 


/ 


CHAPTER X 

BILLY BEGINS TO SHOW SIGNS OF SENSE 
FTER the end of the great price war, 



Billy’s business affairs prospered. 


JL JL Prices of canned sea-food went so 
high that Paul sold out his stock with a good 
profit and was able to set aside adequate re¬ 
serves to protect the business. The cannery 
was now on a paying basis, and Billy sold 
some of his stock. He needed capital for his 
own business ventures. 

For several years Billy devoted all his 
attention to work. He increased his re¬ 
modeled car business by adding an auto¬ 
mobile wrecking department. In course of 
time, when he came across the right men to 
work with, he opened branches in Bos¬ 
ton and Springfield, and started extensive 
newspaper advertising. He made a specialty 
of spare parts, as well as remodeled cars, and 


186 


Billy Shows Signs of Sense 187 

started a garage in connection with each 
branch office. Billy decided that there was 
room for a chain of trustworthy garages. 

As a side-line—for Billy liked to disregard 
the proverb about avoiding too many irons in 
the fire, and preferred to quote instead the 
one counseling against putting all your eggs in 
one basket—he bought as many of Silas 
Clintock’s houses as he could afford. These 
he remodeled slightly and sold to the summer 
people who were beginning to snap up old 
houses. Stormville had an artist colony. 
The fact that the houses were well built and 
that Billy’s improvements had not spoiled 
their charm made them go like hot cakes. 
Perhaps the ghost of Silas Clinstock was 
pleased. At any rate, Billy took a peculiar 
satisfaction in profiting by his ancestor’s con¬ 
scientious work. 

Occasionally Billy dropped in to see his 
mother and father. His mother talked 
chiefly of Jimmy, who was becoming, she as¬ 
sured him, one of the social leaders of Storm¬ 
ville. She admitted that he was only getting 
twenty-five dollars a week, but argued that his 


188 


Uncle James Shoes 


meager salary was outweighed by his increas¬ 
ing responsibilities. He was his uncle’s right- 
hand man, the one to whom James gave all 
the extra work that he could not trust to any¬ 
body else. 

William Clintock had not changed. When 
Billy came he always looked up from his 
paper with a pleased greeting, but after a few 
words on the Presidential outlook he relapsed 
once more behind the screen that kept home 
and family from him. 

Jimmy treated his brother with polite con¬ 
descension. Secure in his belief that he now 
had the upper hand, he was no longer jealous 
of Billy. To some extent, Jimmy was copy¬ 
ing his uncle’s manner, practising for the 
future; but he never quite equaled his model. 
Where James bellowed, Jimmy blustered. 
James, being sure of his importance, assumed 
it as the judge assumes his robe; Jimmy, whose 
spindly appearance could never attract atten¬ 
tion, was forever declaiming at the top of his 
voice that as the heir-apparent he was worthy 
of notice. But he could never hold his 


Billy Shows Signs of Sense 189 

audience. He was an orator with a squeaky 
voice. 

Though Uncle James continued to be the 
great man of Stormville, his orbit seldom 
touched Billy’s. For the first year or two 
after Billy’s break with Persis Uncle James 
passed Billy with a glassy stare when they 
chanced to meet on the street. Then came an 
event which was not chronicled in the Storm¬ 
ville weekly, but which, nevertheless, was of 
the utmost significance to the entire town. 
Billy and Uncle James met on a street¬ 
crossing—and James bowed 1 He solemnly 
and definitely touched his hat. Billy almost 
got run over. 

The next time they met Uncle James waved 
his hand in greeting and said, “You ’re look¬ 
ing well.” Billy was dumfounded. He 
went home and carefully inspected himself in 
the mirror. He was interested to see that he 
had lost his boyish lines and was looking quite 
definitely an adult, but he could not see any 
change that would seem to justify the special 
notice of his mighty uncle. 


190 


Uncle James Shoes 


Several days later as Billy was closing his 
desk after an encouraging inventory that 
showed that he now had twenty-five thousand 
dollars to his credit, of which eight thousand 
had been added during the last year, the door 
opened—and in walked Uncle James. Uncle 
James himself. 

Billy rose and greeted his uncle tentatively. 
Came he in peace here or came he in war? 
Uncle James took a chair. Upon another he 
placed his hat, placed it with a free, generous 
gesture which served as an introduction to his 
first words. “Billy,” he said, “this should n’t 
be. There should n’t be any ill feeling be¬ 
tween uncle and nephew. We ought to stand 
together. I ought to be the best friend 
you’ve got. I admit it.” Magnanimity 
could go no further. 

Billy slowly dropped his keys, still dangling 
from his hand, into his pocket. He said noth¬ 
ing. He was waiting until Uncle James put 
the rest of his cards on the table. One ace 
was all very well, but Billy wanted to see the 
rest. 

“Billy,” said Uncle James, laying down an- 



Billy Shows Signs of Sense 191 

other ace, “I’m going to give you your 
chance. I am going to let you buy—” 

Billy managed to control himself. 

“—some stock in the Peters cannery!” 

Billy remained silent, presumably overcome 
by emotion. 

“I’m going to issue twenty thousand 
dollars’ worth of stock,” continued Uncle 
James, “stock that has every chance of pay¬ 
ing twenty per cent. Now, then,” he finished, 
“what do you say?” 

Billy put his hands in his pockets and 
studied the floor, walking slowly about. 
“Uncle James,” he said in a moment, “I’m so 
tied up that I have n’t money to buy a hat. 
I’ve got three houses on my hands that I won’t 
be able to sell till May or June. I’ve got any 
number of automobiles on hand, and some 
money tied up in the Street cannery and in 
this auto wrecking company. Any money I 
do get I have to put right back into the busi¬ 
ness. I appreciate the opportunity to come 
in, Uncle James, and I’m awfully sorry I 
can’t, but of course stock like yours can sell 
somewhere else in a minute.” 


192 


Uncle James Shoes 


Uncle James shifted. “I realized you were 
getting to be quite a power in the town, but I 
did n’t know you were getting so many invest¬ 
ments. Well—I tell you what. You come 
out and take dinner with me to-night. We ’ll 
go down to the hotel now. I’d like to talk 
over a few things with you.” 

Billy accepted soberly, but as he went for 
his hat there was a suggestion of a smile at 
the corners of his mouth. 

Together Uncle James and Billy walked in 
the dusk through the streets of Stormville. 
Had Uncle James realized the contrast they 
made he might have bidden Billy meet him 
later at the hotel. Billy had to check his 
natural stride to keep in step with his portly 
uncle. His vigorous youth brought out the 
flabbiness that self-indulgence had handed out 
to James. His beautifully shaped mouth, just 
slightly curved into an expression of scornful 
amusement, contrasted sharply with the line, 
sucked inward, that separated James’s beak of 
a nose from his upward-curving chin. 

Yet to one person, at least, the sight of 
James and Billy together brought an emotion 


Billy Shows Signs of Sense 193 

that was neither scorn of James nor admiration 
for Billy. Henrietta was passing the hotel 
when the two entered. Her emotion was just 
what it might have been had she seen the shade 
of Washington communing with the ghost of 
George III. 

Billy and James, nevertheless, entered the 
red brick hotel as though they had dined to¬ 
gether every night of their lives. This was 
not the inn where the summer people stayed, 
but the business hotel, where salesmen put up. 
Yet, somehow, it stood for more than the inn 
to the people of Stormville, perhaps because 
it was a more intimate part of their lives. 
Great occasions were celebrated at the hotel, 
never at the inn. 

Before the dinner had begun Euphemia and 
Jimmy were discussing it at white heat. 
Henrietta had rushed home to spread the 
news, and Bessie had streaked over to the 
Clintock house to find out what was up. 
Henrietta was back at the hotel in time to see 
Billy begin on the soup. Happily James had 
chosen a table by the window. Wilhelmina 
arrived at the instant when James was pressing 


194 


Uncle James Shoes 


Billy to accept another piece of chicken. 
Twenty minutes later Bessie and Euphemia 
collided outside, the collision being inevitable, 
since both were walking with their eyes on a 
window which disclosed Billy making good 
headway with a large plate of peach ice-cream 
while Uncle James gently laid a lady-finger 
upon his nephew’s plate. 

That night Billy slept better than any other 
member of his family. 

The gist of the “matters” that Uncle James 
had to discuss was that the Peters cannery 
was in an unusually flourishing condition and 
needed but a little new capital to put a last 
polish on its bright future. After long 
deliberation, Billy thought he might be able 
to raise five thousand dollars “from friends,” 
but not to put into stock. No, he was afraid 
his friends would insist on a mortgage on the 
plant. Uncle James hastily swirled his brush 
on his palate and laid some more bright colors 
on his picture, begging Billy to present the 
picture to his friends and explain to them that 
stock would be an infinitely better investment 
than a mortgage. 


Billy Shows Signs of Sense 195 

Billy held out little hope that his friends 
would see it that way, but over the finger- 
bowls he promised to approach them on the 
subject of the mortgage. 

As Billy threw his napkin on the table and 
pushed back his chair, Euphemia arrived at 
her simple home and was greeted with a sight 
which might have been entitled “Jimmy in a 
Rage.” 

“Is it true?” cried Jimmy. 

“Yes, they ’re eating down at the hotel now,” 
replied his mother. “Isn’t that nice?” 

“Nice!” shouted Jimmy. “Nice for that 
worthless cad who’s deserted the family to 
come in and cut us all out? Here I’ve slaved 
for years and that—that second-hand auto¬ 
mobile-scavenger comes in at the last moment 
—and you call it nice!” 

“Who would have thought Billy was as 
smart as that?” mused Euphemia. 

“Smart? Are you standing up for that 
scoundrel? How did he manage to get 
around Uncle James? Uncle James is getting 
soft in his head. He locks everything up 
from me.” 


196 


Uncle James Shoes 


“Billy was always an awfully good boy,” 
remarked Euphemia. “You know he gave 
me this nice coat a little while ago.” 

“I was wondering where it came from,” ex¬ 
ploded Jimmy. “So that’s his way of getting 
around people! I’m not going to stand for 
it!” 

William Clintock shuffled into the room. 
“Something upset you, Jimmy?” he asked. 

“Billy’s taking dinner with Uncle James,” 
vociferated Jimmy, as though he brought a 
criminal charge. 

“Well that’s real nice, is n’t it?” said 
William, looking hopefully at his wife. 

“It’s infernal rascality; that’s what it is!” 
cried Jimmy. 

“Now, Jimmy,” protested Euphemia, 
“there’s nothing wrong in accepting an in¬ 
vitation to dinner.” 

“Mother, if you ’re going to stand up for 
him I ’ll leave this house,” blustered Jimmy. 

“Now, Jimmy, if he gets the money he 
won’t forget us,” argued Euphemia. “He 
always was a good boy—always looking after 
the family. We ’ll have him here to supper 



Billy Shows Signs of Sense 197 

to-morrow night. Jimmy, on your way to the 
office stop in and ask Mrs. Ward if she has 
a good chicken.” 

“Chicken!” exploded Jimmy. “If that 
man comes here to supper to-morrow night I 
go out!” Jimmy put on his hat as though to 
emphasize his resounding period and strode 
from the house, slamming the door for extra 
emphasis. 

“Isn’t it too bad Jimmy takes it so hard,” 
remarked Euphemia. “Billy always was the 
calm one. He has lots of self-control, Billy 
has.” 

Next day, further consequences. Pember¬ 
ton, Stormville’s leading confectioner, was 
selling five pounds of candy for a dollar, a 
bargain that Billy could not resist, even though 
the candy had been in the window for several 
days and had not proved sun-fast. 

With five pounds of candy under his arm, 
Billy felt ready to face the world, even 
Henrietta, who, walking by the candy-store, 
had seen Billy within and had suddenly 
remembered an urgent errand at Pemberton’s. 

Henrietta had been rather cool to Billy for 


198 


Uncle James Shoes 


the last year or two, and so he was just a little 
surprised at her cordial greeting until he 
remembered where he had been the evening 
before. Just to see how much he had gone up 
in Henrietta’s opinion Billy asked her to have 
a glass of soda, an invitation which was in¬ 
stantly accepted. 

“Billy,” said Henrietta, whipping the glass 
from the bottom, “why don’t you come and see 
me some time?” Billy silently noted that she 
had said “me,” not “us.” 

It was not altogether innocently that he an¬ 
swered, “Why, to tell you the truth, Henri¬ 
etta, I have so many business matters to attend 
to that I’m just going from one thing to the 
other all day long.” 

Said Henrietta: “Have you that nice little 
red boat this year, Billy? I’d love to go out 
in it some time.” 

“I’d be delighted to take you—both,” re¬ 
plied Billy wickedly. 

“Oh, Wilhelmina hates the water,” Henri¬ 
etta assured him. 

“Well, we ’ll make it a land party,” offered 
Billy with the utmost amiability. 


Billy Shows Signs of Sense 199 

Henrietta pushed back her empty glass. 
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, don’t ask us together,” 
she exploded. “Sisters see so much of each 
other at home that they get tired of each 
other.” 

“All right”—still Billy strove to please— 
“I ’ll take you—alternately.” Which was 
altogether annoying to Henrietta, who knew 
full well that Wilhelmina was rounder and 
pinker and curlier than she, and considerably 
more cuddlesome, and always managing to go 
Henrietta one better. 

However, Henrietta made the best of it. 
“Let’s see; when shall we go?” she asked, as 
though Billy’s invitation had been definite. 

“Well,” hedged Billy, “I’m awfully busy 
at the moment—” 

“All right,” interrupted Henrietta, “then 
we ’ll make it the end of the week. Say 
Thursday. I ’ll be at the boat-landing, at 
twelve o’clock and bring some lunch. Do 
you like chicken, Billy?” 

With a sigh Billy agreed to be there, but 
he was worse than bored at the prospect. He 
did not want to see another girl taking Persis’ 
place in the red motor-boat. 





200 


Uncle James Shoes 


Henrietta was not endowed with the long¬ 
headedness that distinguished the rest of the 
family. Neither her mother nor Wilhelmina 
would have made the mistake of calling the 
world’s attention to the fish for which she had 
cast her bait. But Henrietta, coming out of 
the candy-store with Billy, took pains to walk 
the way he was going. Along Main Street 
she walked, chattering archly, and lingering 
by the way as much as she consistently could. 
And instead of being annoyed when she 
saw Wilhelmina coming, she was distinctly 
pleased. At last she had gone Wilhelmina 
one better I 

Wilhelmina stopped to speak to her sister 
and her third cousin Billy, and Henrietta was 
pleased to see that her smile was forced. 
Bitterness was in the eyes of Wilhelmina when 
she perceived that her sister had accidentally 
stumbled on an idea which, as it happened, she 
herself had deliberately evolved. Said Hen¬ 
rietta, unworthy of her careful training, 
“Billy and I are going on a picnic Thursday” 
—an inexcusable strategic error. 

On the way home Wilhelmina racked her 


Billy Shows Signs of Sense 201 

brain for some means of going Henrietta one 
better, and the Kelsey household became, like 
the Clintock household, a divided camp. 

That night Billy went to his father’s house 
to supper, and he did not fail to note that 
Jimmy was significantly absent and that 
Euphemia had brought forth the asparagus- 
tongs. He noted, too, that when he casually 
mentioned having seen his cousins, Henrietta 
and Wilhelmina, she pounced upon the infor¬ 
mation and openly urged Billy to beware of 
the wiles of designing women. “It seems as 
if I always had something to worry about,” 
sighed Euphemia. 

The next day Billy reported to his uncle 
that he had raised the five thousand dollars, 
but that it must be secured by a mortgage on 
the cannery. Uncle James offered Billy stock 
and notes, and otherwise tried to dodge, but 
Billy was adamant. At last Uncle James 
produced a counter-offer. “Make it ten 
thousand,” he said, “and I ’ll give you a 
mortgage.” Billy did some figuring and 
decided that he could just do it. He had a 
pretty good idea that the price war had cost 


202 


Uncle James Shoes 


Uncle James a large amount, and that the 
Peters cannery was in a bad way. He did 
not know, however, about the failure of the 
tin-mines in which James, as well as David 
Hamilton, was so vitally interested. 

By the end of the week Billy held the mort¬ 
gage. Uncle James was kindness itself. He 
suggested that Billy could save the fee that 
it would cost to have the mortgage recorded. 
“I ’ll take it up in a month or two,” he ex¬ 
plained, “so you need n’t take the trouble to 
record it.” Billy thanked his uncle for this 
helpful bit of advice, but, being an energetic 
young man and not averse to trouble, he went 
hotfoot to the county clerk’s office five minutes 
later and attended to the technical and legal 
side of the matter. 

The mortgage transaction was conducted 
as secretly as possible, and no one in Storm- 
ville was the wiser. Even a whisper that 
there was anything wrong with the Peters 
cannery would have thrown Stormville into 
a panic. 

If Henrietta enjoyed her picnic with Billy, 
Wilhelmina certainly did her best to drop 


203 


Billy Shows Signs of Sense 

a fly into the ointment. However, Wil- 
helmina’s efforts but added to her sister’s 
satisfaction. 

“Billy is a peach,” said Henrietta as she 
came home from the picnic. “I tell you, 
Mina, you don’t half appreciate Billy.” 

“Well, I can’t say I’m crazy about him,” 
was Wilhelmina’s offhand reply. “He’s got 
too many irons in the fire, Billy has. I was 
talking to Uncle James about him to-day.” 

Henrietta pricked up her ears. “Have you 
been running Billy down to Uncle James?” 
she demanded. “Where’d you see Uncle 
James?” 

“I took lunch with him,” replied Wilhel- 
mina airily. 

But her announcement fell flat. A week 
before, Henrietta would have felt that Wil- 
helmina had scored a triumph, but now she 
was too sure that she was ahead in the game 
to mind. “What did he say about Billy?” 
she demanded, with an air of proprietorship. 

“Oh, nothing much,” replied her sister, idly 
replacing a stray lock, “I just told him you had 
a crush on Billy but that for my part I thought 


204 


Uncle James Shoes 


Billy was just a bright boy doing about as well 
as he ’d ever do, and he agreed with me.” 

Henrietta changed the subject—apparently. 
But when she said, “Mother just gave me 
Grandma’s Paisley shawl,” she really re¬ 
marked: “Mother thinks I’m ahead. She's 
backing me.” She added casually: “I’m 
going to have it made into an evening wrap. 
I think Mother ’ll give me her brown fox 
furs for collar and cuffs.” Which was equiv¬ 
alent to saying, “I’ve got the best of you this 
time!” 

Again Henrietta had made a strategical 
error. Though Wilhelmina replied politely, 
there was a tremor in her voice. She now 
wholeheartedly hated her sister and vowed 
revenge. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE ALLIANCES ARE REARRANGED 

F OR a few days Billy tried to keep 
away from Henrietta, to decline her 
invitations and steel himself against 
her. But Billy was lonely. He had not real¬ 
ized it before, when no one was paying any 
attention to him, but now that he was being 
violently made up to he began to see how arid 
his life was. Of course he knew that Hen¬ 
rietta was chiefly interested in him as the 
prospective heir to Uncle James’s wealth, but 
he could hardly blame her for being a victim 
to the Uncle James idea. He knew only too 
well the mighty clutch of the monster. Poor 
Henrietta! 

And it was nice to be admired, listened to, 
sympathized with. Of course he discounted 
99 per cent of Henrietta’s interest in him, but 
he wondered if perhaps i per cent of it was 

205 


206 


Uncle James Shoes 


not genuine. He hoped Henrietta liked 
him just a little bit for himself. Not that he 
could ever fall in love with Henrietta—that 
part of him was for ever dedicated to Persis 
—but he did like to feel that some one took 
a human interest in him. 

As a matter of fact, a certain part of 
Henrietta’s interest in him was genuine. 
Billy’s good looks and courage appealed to 
Henrietta. She had no intention of allow¬ 
ing her -heart to lead, but at least it came 
thumping along close after her head. It was 
perhaps urging her head forward, though 
Henrietta did not realize it. 

Henrietta had never had a warm attach¬ 
ment in her life, and she unconsciously sought 
something that she could cling to, something 
substantial. Here was the perfect combina¬ 
tion: some one whom she could really love 
who at the same time realized her life’s ambi¬ 
tion in the Uncle James direction. She 
worked on Billy’s barriers until they went 
down, and after that she saw him almost daily. 
She was always planning a party of some sort, 
with careful consideration of Billy’s tastes. 



The Alliances are Rearranged 207 

It was a relief to Billy to play a little after 
his years of steady work, and it was more than 
a relief to have some human intercourse. 
Though Henrietta steered him away from the 
pretty girls of Stormville, Billy was content 
to talk to the plain ones. He felt that he had 
been getting self-centered alone in his barn, 
and he wanted to find out how other people 
thought and felt. 

And so it happened one evening that Hen¬ 
rietta and Wilhelmina were dressing for a 
dance to which Henrietta was going with 
Billy. Wilhelmina had been ignominiously 
forced to accept the escort of her brother 
Randolph, just home from college for the 
summer vacation—a humiliating position, 
especially as the accepting of Randolph’s 
escort was in reality the drafting of Ran¬ 
dolph’s services. 

Wilhelmina had not mentioned to Randolph 
that Billy was to be of the party lest Billy’s 
anticipated presence involve Randolph’s 
absence. It was well known in the Kelsey 
household that Randolph had no love for 
Billy. 



208 


Uncle James Shoes 


In their second-floor-back room the girls 
were getting into their evening-gowns. Hen¬ 
rietta had of course selected her new ver¬ 
milion chiffon, but Wilhelmina, with surpris¬ 
ing stubbornness, was bent upon wearing her 
old crimson silk rather than the more ap¬ 
propriate yellow tulle that she had had made 
expressly for the occasion. Henrietta won¬ 
dered at her sister’s contrariness. Not so 
their mother, the master-mind of the family. 

“Henrietta dear,” said Bessie, as she hooked 
up the vermilion chiffon, “don’t you want to 
wear Mother’s gold comb?”—the sacred 
gold comb, which held in Bessie’s heart the 
place occupied in Euphemia’s by the aspar¬ 
agus-tongs. 

Wilhelmina stamped her foot. “That old 
thing! Why, you ’ll look as if you were dug 
up, Hen.” 

“You ’re horrid, Mina,” cried Henrietta, 
throwing her arms around her mother. “I’d 
love to wear it, Mama. It ’ll look too cute 
for anything with my hair done high, this 

way.” 

Wilhelmina turned from them and ran to 


The Alliances are Rearranged 209 

the spare room. She tore off her crimson 
dress, yanking at the hooks and tearing the 
lace. She kicked off her gold slippers and 
flung herself on the bed. When her mother 
came after her she stormed, “I’m not going 
to the old dance!” 

“Now, Mina dear,” remonstrated Bessie, 
“don’t get your eyes all red. Mama’s so 
proud of her two beautiful daughters. I love 
to see you all dressed up and going out to¬ 
gether. You go and have a good time, and 
don’t put a spoke in Hennie’s wheel. Think 
how nice it ’ll be to have a sister rolling in 
money. Think how mad Cousin Euphemia 
will be when Hennie walks off with Billy and 
the money, too. It’s always the wife that 
counts; and Hennie will see to it that the rest 
of the family don’t work Billy.” 

“Billy does n’t care two pins for Henrietta,” 
sobbed Wilhelmina. “I know. I can tell.” 

“Nonsense!” said Bessie. “Billy’s never 
been anywhere or seen anything, and he ’ll go 
wild over Hennie in no time. He’s mighty 
lucky to get a pretty girl like Hennie. No, 
dear, I know she’s not as pretty as you, but 


210 


Uncle James Shoes 


your time will come; don’t you worry. I’d 
rather get Hennie off my hands first because 
she’s the least attractive.” 

“I can’t bear Billy,” stormed Wilhelmina. 
“I can’t bear to have him look at me. Besides, 
Henrietta’s not in love with him. It’s wrong 
to marry a man you ’re not in love with.” 

“Why, of course it is, dear,” soothed Bessie. 
“But she ’ll fall in love with him the minute 
she thinks it’s wise. You ’ll see. They ’ll be 
as happy as two turtle-doves—” 

Wilhelmina bounced from the bed and 
rushed from the room, slamming the door. 
Bessie picked up her daughter’s dress and 
shook her head over the torn lace. “I ought 
to have known better,” she sighed. She hung 
up the dress in the hall closet where the best 
clothes were kept, and went to her own room 
to get the comb. Back in her daughters’ room 
she found Henrietta folding the Paisley wrap 
over her vermilion dress. 

“Here it is, dear,” said Bessie. “Let me 
put it in. And be nice to Mina in the morn¬ 
ing. She’s not going, and I’m just as glad, 


The Alliances are Rearranged 211 

because that crimson dress of hers does make 
yours look sick.” 

“Thanks,” said Henrietta, carefully insert¬ 
ing the comb before the mirror. “Say, that 
looks swell.” She turned her head to admire 
it at different angles. “I ’ll be nice to Mina 
if she’s nice to me, but she’s got to learn how 
to treat me.” To Henrietta Wilhelmina was 
already a poor relation. 

In the attic Wilhelmina was listening for 
her sister’s departure. As Henrietta’s voice 
trailed down the stairs Wilhelmina darted 
back to their room and feverishly searched in 
the closet for her Sunday clothes. Behind 
locked doors she dressed quickly but carefully. 
She paused a moment, motionless, when she 
heard Billy’s voice down-stairs. She made 
no movement until she heard the door 
slam. 

From the window in the next room Bessie 
watched Henrietta step into Billy’s car. How 
well Henrietta held herself! She had not 
Wilhelmina’s cute ways, but, after all, she 
was more dignified—as if she felt she was 



212 


Uncle James Shoes 


somebody. Bessie went to tell Randolph that 
Wilhelmina had changed her mind and was 
not going. Of course Randolph was annoyed, 
and it took all her diplomacy to persuade 
him to look in at the dance later on. She 
wanted Stormville to see what a distinguished 
son she had. Euphemia’s boys could not 
touch him. 

Meanwhile Wilhelmina was slipping has¬ 
tily into the black velvet gown that made 
her hair glow in contrast, and the black and 
silver hat that she had made herself. She 
emphasized the bend in the hat, and looked 
at herself in the glass with half-closed eyes. 
She turned her head slightly and looked again 
at her reflections, curving her lips into the 
suggestion of a smile. She picked up her lip¬ 
stick and carefully traced her lips, drawing 
them tight over her teeth. She closed her lips 
and stood off to see the effect. Suddenly, as 
though she had changed her mind, she took 
a damp face-cloth from the wash-stand and 
wiped away the lip-stick red. 

“That’s better,” she nodded to herself in 
the mirror. She put on her coat and went 


The Alliances are Rearranged 213 

> 

quickly down-stairs. The gold comb had 
changed her life. 

With her hand on the door-knob Wilhel- 
mina paused, attracted by something on the 
hat-stand. She went back and picked it up. 
It was a brown glove—Billy’s. It lay on her 
hand, a model of Billy’s big hand. In spite 
of its limp hollowness, there was something 
vigorous about it. Wilhelmina looked at it, 
breathing hard. Suddenly she crushed it in 
her fingers, flung it as far away as she could, 
and went out of the door, closing it softly be¬ 
hind her. 

Henrietta queened it over Stormville that 
night. In her own imagination she was 
already the great lady of the place, and this 
inner conviction gave her a poise that made 
Stormville gasp. Moreover, Billy had in¬ 
vested in a Tuxedo. Even Jimmy’s dress 
suit—one of the few that Stormville boasted 
—seemed to be eclipsed by Billy’s Tuxedo. 
Certainly full dress ought to outshine semi¬ 
dress. Why didn’t it? Savagely Jimmy 
saw that there was a suggestion of superiority 
in the very fact that Billy was not in full dress. 




214 


Uncle James Shoes 


“This is an informal little dance,” he seemed 
to suggest. “I just slipped on my dinner- 
jacket.” 

Jimmy’s eyes passed from Billy to Hen¬ 
rietta and read her thoughts. “I am the lead¬ 
ing lady of Stormville,” she seemed to say, 
“because of my escort, heir of James Randolph 
Peters.” 

Jimmy sauntered up to Billy. “Fits you 
well—for a rented suit. Got this dance taken, 
Henrietta?” 

“Yes—with Billy,” answered Henrietta 
icily. She did not want her great moment 
spoiled by a joke in poor taste. 

“Darn those brats of Cousin Bessie’s,” 
muttered Jimmy, moving away. He retired 
to a corner and glowered. 

Before the evening was over, however, 
Jimmy had found a friend, not a permanent 
one, perhaps, but at least a warm one for the 
time being. Randolph had decided that as 
long as he had taken the trouble to dress he 
might as well go to the hick dance. Some¬ 
how or other he took more pleasure in im¬ 
pressing Stormville than in shining in the far 


The Alliances are Rearranged 215 

more sophisticated circles in which he now 
moved. Accordingly, at a properly late 
hour, Randolph sauntered into the large room 
at the top of the town hall where big dances 
were held. Randolph was quite sure that he 
would find plenty of girls ready to turn over 
to him the dances they had promised to other 
men. 

The first thing that Randolph saw was Hen¬ 
rietta parading with Billy, talking to Billy, 
positively trying to flirt with him. 

At the earliest opportunity Randolph drew 
his sister aside. “Have n’t you any better 
sense than to be seen with that mutt?” he de¬ 
manded, descending into the language of 
Stormville’s younger set. Henrietta waved 
her fan, after the manner of the vamps of the 
movies. 

“Billy is quite in now,” she condescended 
to explain. She could not help adding, 
though she knew it was unwise, “Especially 
with Uncle James.” 

Randolph drew his eyebrows together. 
“Who says so?” he demanded. 

“Why, everybody” Henrietta replied. 


216 


Uncle James Shoes 


“He’s always taking dinner with Uncle 
James and going to his private office and so 
on.” 

It was a blow to Randolph. He had counted 
Billy out of the running entirely. He saw 
Henrietta’s game immediately. “Look here, 

Hen,” he said, trying to be pleasant, “don’t 
throw yourself away on Billy. I don’t want 

to have any more poor relations on my hands. 
They ’re an awful drag on a person who wants 
to get on in the world.” 

“Just the way I feel,” returned Henrietta 
sweetly. “But I ’ll always ask you to dinner, 
Randolph.” 

Billy in all his glory came up to claim a 
dance. “I say, Randolph,” he said, “there’s 
something I want to talk to you about. Can 
I see you some time to-morrow?” 

“I’m afraid not,” said Randolph coldly; 
“my time’s pretty well taken up.” He 
turned away, just in time to catch Jimmy, 
across the room, glaring at Billy. Randolph 
joined his cousin. He wanted to know just 
how matters stood between Billy and Uncle 


The Alliances are Rearranged 217 

James. Jimmy was in the office. He ought 
to know. That Jimmy and Billy were not 
on good terms was common knowledge in 
Stormville. 

With just a little preliminary priming Ran¬ 
dolph succeeded in pumping from Jimmy 
what he wanted to know. Flattered by Ran¬ 
dolph’s attention, Jimmy told him what little 
he knew about Billy’s connection with his 
uncle’s affairs. Randolph pondered. What 
did Uncle James want with Billy? Evi¬ 
dently it was Uncle James who had sought 
out Billy, not the other way round. Some¬ 
thing was up. Randolph made up his mind 
to find out what it was. His mathematical 
mind might be able to piece together the 
broken bits that meant nothing to Jimmy. 

The dance ended with some of the old 
alliances broken up and new ones formed. 
Randolph and Henrietta were now on bad 
terms, and Randolph and Jimmy on good 
terms. And Wilhelmina, who had parted 
from Henrietta in a rage, sat up in bed when 
her sister came in and took a sisterly interest 


218 


Uncle James Shoes 


in the dance. She was so glad Hen had had 
a good time, and so glad Billy had looked 
well. In fact, her friendliness and lack of 
jealousy spoiled half of Henrietta’s pleasure 
when she rehearsed the story of her triumphs. 


CHAPTER XII 


THE WORLD IS TURNED UPSIDE DOWN 


N EXT day Randolph followed up his 
new intimacy with Jimmy. He 
stopped in at the cannery, and, find¬ 
ing that his uncle was away for the day, made 
the best of the opportunity by talking over the 
business with Jimmy. Since Randolph was a 
stockholder, Jimmy felt justified in telling him 
everything he knew, and even showing him 
some of the books. Randolph left in the 
middle of the afternoon with his brows heavily 
contracted. 

Jimmy went home with a new feeling of 
importance. Birds of a feather were flocking 
together, he assured himself. How natural it 
was that the two men of the world in the 
family should be friends. 

Jimmy reached the Clintock front door and 
took out his key, but before he had time to 

219 


220 


Uncle James Shoes 


insert it he was arrested by hurrying footsteps 
behind him. Turning, he saw the panting 
form of Cousin Bessie tear up the wooden 
steps. She could not speak, but she gestured 
to him to open the door. Once inside she 
gasped, “Euphemia!” and sank upon a chair. 

“Mother!” called Jimmy, more effectively. 

Euphemia came running out of the kitchen, 
enveloped in a blue apron. “What’s hap¬ 
pened?” she cried. She knew that some 
calamity impended and that it concerned 
James. Nothing else ever brought Bessie to 
the house. 

Bessie closed her eyes. “It’s all over,” she 
groaned. 

“He’s not dead!” gasped Euphemia, with 
mixed emotions. 

Bessie shook her head both ways and waited 
until she had recovered her breath before she 
spoke. “I was in Hipp’s,” she began. Hipp 
was the local jeweler. “I went to have my 
watch mended. It’s stopped again.” 

“Yes, yes, go on,” urged Euphemia. 

“And Mr. Hipp said—oh, you’d never 
believe it, Euphemia—he said: ‘Your cousin, 



The TVorld is Turned Upside Down 221 

Mr. Peters, was in here to-day. He seems to 
be getting married.’ ” 

“What?” cried Euphemia. 

“No!” shouted Jimmy. 

“Yes,” declared Bessie, “that’s what he 
said, and he told me James had bought a 
wedding-ring and charged it. Now what 
do you think of that?” 

“It’s the most outrageous thing I ever 
heard,” was what Euphemia thought of it. 

“Who is it? Who is it?” demanded Jimmy, 
as though he merely waited for the name 
before rushing out to slay the lady. 

“I have n’t the least idea,” mourned Bessie, 
tragedy brooding on her plump face. “Un¬ 
less it’s somebody at the office. Is it, do you 
think, Jimmy?” 

“I know it isn’t,” said Jimmy stalwartly, 
clearing himself of all blame. “I’ve watched 
carefully to see that nobody makes up to Uncle 
James.” 

“I sent Henrietta around to talk to 
Freda,” went on Bessie. Freda was James’s 
cook. “The girls always give Freda a 
Christmas present, and she tells them lots of 


222 


Uncle James Shoes 


things.” A shade crossed Euphemia’s face. 
Here was a point she had neglected. 

“It could n’t be Susanna Tumpkins,” rea¬ 
soned Bessie, “for she’s been sick a week 
with asthma. And I know James doesn’t 
care for Jim Bartlett’s widow any more, 
since I told him that story about the plate she 
threw at her brother. And it can’t be Alice 
Smith—” 

Euphemia wrung her hands. “We’ve got 
to find out and stop it,” she declared. “How 
did James seem to-day, Jimmy?” 

“He wasn’t at the office,” said Jimmy 
savagely. 

“When I find out who it is I ’ll make her 
suffer. You ’ll see,” said Bessie with set lips. 

The group sank into a feverish silence, 
through which broke hurrying footsteps on 
the wooden porch outside, and a quick jerk 
of the bell. Euphemia ran to the door. 
Into the hall burst Henrietta. “Is Mama 
here?” she asked, running into the parlor as 
she spoke. “Mama! Mama! I’ve found 
out!” she cried. 

“Who is it?” demanded Bessie. 



The World is Turned Upside Down 223 

Henrietta looked hurriedly around the 
group. Her face was white and her eyes 
black with fury. “I think I ’d better tell you 
alone,” she said. 

“Nonsense!” cried her exasperated mother, 
“if James is going to be married, it’s no 
secret.” 

“All right, then,” cried Henrietta angrily, 
“I ’ll tell you—and if you don’t like it it’s 
your own fault! He’s going to marry Wil- 
helmina!” 

Euphemia stepped back and put her hand 
to her forehead. “But—but—what relation 
is she to James?” she gasped. 

Wilhelmina’s dumfounded mother recov¬ 
ered. “Why—let’s see—second cousin, of 
course,” she said. Suddenly a pleased smile 
broke over her face. “Well, think of that!” 
she said. “Dear little Mina.” 

Henrietta turned upon her. “You ’re sup¬ 
porting her, Mama,” she cried. “How can 
you ? When you know what it means to me!” 

“There, there, dear,” soothed Bessie, 
Mina ’ll be nice to you.” 

This reminder of the reversal of their 





224 


Uncle James Shoes 


positions was too much for Henrietta. “I ’ll 
never speak to Wilhelmina again,” she blazed. 

“Well, I should think you wouldn’t!” 
flared Euphemia. 

“Well, I guess Mina’s got a right to marry 
any one she’pleases,” bridled Bessie. 

“To go off in that underhanded way,” cried 
Henrietta. “You have n’t heard about it yet.” 

Curiosity restrained Bessie and Euphemia 
while Henrietta went on with her story. “It 
began with her taking lunch with him. 
Freda says he came home with her picture 
that day and put it on his bureau. And last 
night when I was at the dance—” she choked 
and began again. “When I was at the dance 
she dressed up in her velvet dress and went to 
see Uncle James. They sat in the parlor 
together on the sofa and talked a long while. 
They closed the door, but when Freda went 
past on her way to bed she heard Wilhelmina 
say, T kept it from you a long time, James’— 
she did n’t call him ‘Uncle James’—‘to be sure 
I knew my own heart.’ And Uncle James 
said, ‘To think the old man still has it in him to 
make a little beauty like you fall in love with 



The World is Turned Upside Down 225 

him’; and then they talked about a lot of 
things that Freda couldn’t remember—” 

“It seems to have taken her some time to 
pass the door,” sniffed Euphemia. 

“And then,” went on Henrietta, ignoring 
the interruption, “Wilhelmina said how she’d 
love to take care of him in his old age and all 
that sort of thing, and then he seemed to be 
urging her to marry him right away and not 
wait, and she seemed to be sort of reluctant, 
but Freda thought she was just putting that on, 
and then they started to say good-by, and 
Freda got out of the way in a hurry.” 

“That’s my little Mina all over,” purred 
Bessie. “The minute any one’s sick she just 
gives up everything and waits on them. It 
makes her so happy.” Henrietta sniffed. 
Euphemia drew in her breath, enraged by 
Bessie’s plump satisfaction. “I’m very glad 
to hear it,” she said. “James wants to be 
waited on every minute of the day!” 

“Wilhelmina can take my place at the office 
if she wants to wait on him,” gulped Jimmy. 
“I’m through!” 

Euphemia reacted. “Now, Jimmy, don’t 


226 


Uncle James Shoes 


do anything hasty,” she warned. “You know 
it is n’t—yet—I ’ll tell you later.” Already 
she was laying her plans to undermine 
Wilhelmina. Bessie saw what was going 
through her head, and began to speak, but she 
was interrupted. More footsteps sounded on 
the porch, and another ring came at the door; 
but this time it was a calm, distinct ring, not 
a hasty jerk. 

Henrietta went to the extreme edge of the 
window and looked out aslant between the 
curtains. “Why, it’s Wilhelmina herself!” 
she cried. 

Bessie jumped up and ran to the door. She 
came back with her arm around her daughter, 
murmuring, “Where have you been all day, 
darling?” 

Gracefully Wilhelmina removed her coat 
and dropped it across a chair. “Getting 
married,” she said. 

“Damn!” said Jimmy. 

Euphemia drew in her breath and released 
it slowly. 

“It’s rather fun,” said Wilhelmina evenly, 
“to be Mrs.—James—Peters.” 




The World is Turned Upside Down 227 

“Mothers darling little girl,” sobbed 
Bessie, inclosing her daughter in a fond 
embrace. Wilhelmina was safely beyond 
Euphemia’s reach. 

Henrietta paced the floor. In the last 
analysis Wilhelmina had gone her one better. 
Oh, if she had only thought of it herself! 
Uncle James liked her as well as he liked 
Wilhelmina. She knew she had not the 
dimpled glance of invitation that was Wilhel- 
mina’s specialty, but she was more queenly, 
more impressive, more fitted to be Mrs.— 
James—Peters. If only she had not wasted 
her time over Billy. Yes, the whole thing was 
Billy’s fault. It was jealousy of Henrietta’s 
conquest of Billy that had inspired Wilhel¬ 
mina to do this thing! 

“We went off to Boston in Uncle—in 
James’s car,” Wilhelmina was explaining 
languidly. “James has a friend there in 
politics who fixed up the license. We were 
married in the sweetest church—you’d have 
loved it, Hen. I really wish you could have 
been there, but James and I decided at the 
last moment that we’d just go off by ourselves 


228 


Uncle James Shoes 


and not ask anybody. James has so much 
sentiment. We ’re going off again to-night on 
a trip to Canada. I just came home to tell 
you and to get my bags and things.” 

Bessie took her child by the shoulders. 
“Mother will forgive you,” she said earnestly. 
“My darling should n’t have done it, but what 
are mothers for if not to forgive?” 

Unconsciously she put a finger on a sore 
spot in Euphemia’s consciousnescs. It had 
dawned upon Euphemia as well as Henrietta 
that Wilhelmina had done this thing to outwit 
her sister. If Billy had not flirted with 
Henrietta—there! It was Billy again. She 
might have known Billy would ruin her in 
the end. It was all very well for Bessie to 
talk about motherly forgiveness when there 
was nothing to forgive, but Euphemia would 
never forgive Billy; no, never. 

“James just insisted,” sighed Wilhelmina. 

“I’ve no doubt of it,” intoned Henrietta 
scornfully. “I suppose you did n’t go around 
there and say you could n’t keep it from him 
any longer!” 

An electric shock went through Wilhel- 



The W or Id is Turned Upside Down 229 

mina. “So Freda was listening!'’ she cried. 
“Well, I hope she told you Uncle James said 
he was glad it was the beauty of the family 
that fell in love with him!” 

“She said nothing of the kind!” cried 
Henrietta. “She said something like that, but 
it wasn’t that.” 

“Oh, Henrietta,” reproached Bessie, “you 
kept something from us.” 

“I wasn’t going to repeat Freda’s foolish 
gossip!” stormed Henrietta. “You know per¬ 
fectly well, Wilhelmina, that Uncle James 
would just as soon have married me as you!” 

“He would nothing of the kind!” cried 
Wilhelmina. “And if Freda said he said 
so—” 

“What Freda said you said was that I said 
I never really cared for him,” raged Henri¬ 
etta, “and she said he said he did n’t care as 
long as you cared as much as he cared.” 

“Well, if she said I said you said that—” 
interrupted Wilhelmina. 

“Children, children,” soothed Bessie, “don’t 
spoil this wonderful day—your wedding-day, 
Wilhelmina—by this foolish quarreling. 




230 Uncle James Shoes 

Think how much we have to be thankful 
for—” 

“At our expense!” burst out Euphemia, un¬ 
able to control herself. 

“Euphemia,” began Bessie kindly—but 
again footsteps on the porch brought the com¬ 
pany to a full stop. This time they were 
heavy, masculine footsteps, and the ring at the 
door was sharp, imperative. Silently Jimmy 
went to the door and came back with Ran¬ 
dolph. 

“Randolph,” cried Bessie, “we have good 
news for you. Wonderful, wonderful news.” 

“Well, I’d like to hear some for a change,” 
said Randolph morosely. 

“Tell your brother, Mina,” urged Bessie 
archly. 

In her endeavor to be casual Wilhelmina 
almost suppressed a yawn. “Well, Ran¬ 
dolph,” she said, “ you won’t have to take me 
to any more dances. I have a permanent 
escort now. I’m married—to James Peters.” 

Randolph stopped as though he had 
been struck by lightning. “To—to—Uncle 
James,” he gasped. 


The World is Turned Upside Down 231 

“And we ’re going off on a little trip to 
Canada to-night,” added Wilhelmina, as 
lightly as a butterfly brushing a rose-leaf. 

“Canada!” said Randolph in low, tense 
tones. “He’d better go to Canada.” 

Something in his voice made his words 
sound like the pronouncement of doom. 

“What do you mean?” asked Bessie sharply. 

“I mean that Uncle James is worse than 
bankrupt,” said Randolph evenly. 

So deeply rooted was their belief that Uncle 
James was as substantial as the Rock of Gi¬ 
braltar that for a moment no one took in 
Randolph’s meaning. They waited for the 
end of the sentence which would show that he 
had merely been using a figure of speech. 

“I’ve been looking into his affairs all day,” 
went on Randolph, “and they ’re in a fright¬ 
ful state.” 

There was a moment of shocked silence. 
Then slowly a smile dawned upon the faces of 
Euphemia, Jimmy, and Henrietta, as they 
turned to look at Bessie and Wilhelmina, who 
sat motionless, horror-struck. 

“When his debts are paid,” continued 


232 


Uncle James Shoes 


Randolph slowly, “Uncle James won’t have 
a cent left. What is worse”—could there be 
anything worse?—“he’s done some kind of 
double-dealing with a mortgage that’s likely 
to land him in jail.” 

Wilhelmina broke into hysterics. It had 
been a hard day for her. Euphemia un¬ 
expectedly joined in. The bitterness of hav¬ 
ing James’s fortune twice snatched from her 
within ten minutes outweighed her triumph 
over Bessie. Nothing but choked sobs broke 
the silence. 

Henrietta walked to the window, turning an 
insouciant shoulder upon her practically 
widowed sister; for since Wilhelmina had 
married Uncle James’s money rather than 
Uncle James its loss naturally put her into 
mourning. “After all, Mina,” said Henrietta 
brightly, “you ’ll still have the pleasure of 
taking care of Uncle James in his old age.” 

A smothered shriek of rage was all the reply 
she got from Wilhelmina, but Euphemia 
unexpectedly took Wilhelmina’s part. You 
never could tell how things would strike 
Euphemia. Perhaps, however, it was hatred 


The World is Turned Upside Down 233 

of Henrietta, who had thrown her line for 
Billy, rather than sympathy for Wilhelmina, 
that made her say, “It’s all very well for you 
to stand there and taunt your sister, but we ’ll 
see how much affection you have for Billy, 
now Uncle James—is—is—” 

“Bankrupt,” supplied Henrietta, calmly, 
“and a criminal. As for Billy—” She 
turned again to the window, preferring to 
leave Euphemia in suspense as to what her 
attitude toward Billy would be. She turned 
back again quickly. “Here’s Billy now,” 
she said. 

Firm, quick footsteps upon the porch pre¬ 
ceded an energetic ring at the bell. Wilhel¬ 
mina hastily dried her eyes and straightened 
her hat. 

“Let him in,” said Euphemia grimly, as 
though it was necessary to give permission 
before Billy would be allowed to enter. 
Presently Billy breezed into the room. 
“Well,” he said, glancing around the circle 
of his emotion-racked relatives, “it looks as 
if you’d heard the news.” 

"Which news?” asked Euphemia feelingly. 



234 


Uncle James Shoes 


“Uncle James’ smash-up,” explained Billy. 
“Why? Has anything else happened?” 

“Wilhelmina’s married to Uncle James!” 
announced Jimmy at the top of his voice, eager 
to get the flash of limelight that comes to the 
springer of news. 

“Lord!” was Billy’s dumfounded comment. 
“Well—we ’ll have to make the best of it.” 

Wilhelmina drew a deep breath and sank 
back in her chair. So that was what her great 
triumph had come to! Even casual congratu¬ 
lations were impossible. 

Jimmy strove to get all the pleasure he 
could out of the situation. “Too bad you’ve 
been having business deals with Uncle James,” 
he grinned. 

“If you have,” put in Randolph pleasantly, 
“you ’ll be sorry you did n’t throw your money 
into the sea.” 

“I don’t know why you can’t mind your own 
business,” raged Euphemia, who was suddenly 
inspired with the idea that Billy’s meddling 
had brought about James’s downfall. Of 
course it was Billy’s finger that had tipped 
over the pie. She might have known it. 


The World is Turned Upside Down 235 

Billy never did have any business sense. 
“None of these things would have happened 
if it had n’t been for you!” 

“Have you been interfering in James’s 
business?” demanded Bessie indignantly. 

Billy looked around the circle of his hostile 
relatives. “How do you feel about it, Henri¬ 
etta?” 

Euphemia’s hint that Billy might be in¬ 
volved in his uncle’s financial collapse had 
frightened Henrietta. She had been brought 
up with the idea that Uncle James was the 
source and only source of money, and now that 
he had fallen she felt adrift on a spar. She 
certainly could not afford to let herself fall in 
love with Billy, as she surely would if Billy 
fell in love with her. A dazed mixture of 
these emotions made her answer pettishly, 
“Oh, I feel that this whole family has got it¬ 
self into a fine mess, and I wish I could go 
away and never see any of you again.” 

“Very well,” said Billy, emotionlessly, “I 
think it can be arranged. One moment—” 
he stopped them from speaking—“I want 
to put the situation before you briefly. Uncle 


236 


Uncle James Shoes 


James is bankrupt. He’s been borrowing 
money for some time. What he borrowed 
from me is secured by a mortgage. But Uncle 
James mortgaged the place a second time and 
persuaded the man who took the mortgage not 
to record it. He told him it was a first mort¬ 
gage. Of course that’s criminal, and will 
land Uncle James in jail if we don’t fix it up, 
as I think we can.” 

Bessie and Euphemia sat looking at Billy 
as they might have looked at James under the 
same circumstances. He had hypnotized 
them by his assumption of authority. Jimmy 
stared with half-open mouth. Randolph 
stood by the mantel-piece, listening closely. 
Henrietta had left the window and taken a 
seat opposite Billy. Had her last words been 
too hasty? Perhaps she should not have 
discouraged Billy. 

Wilhelmina sat motionless, her hands in her 
lap, giving herself up to the spell of Billy’s 
voice. At that instant she felt that she did not 
care what happened to her. She would like 
to have Billy say one kind word to her, and 
after that she was ready to die. 


The World is Turned Upside Down 237 

Billy went on in a low voice that neverthe¬ 
less carried: “What I propose to do is to 
consolidate the Street and Peters canneries, 
under the Street name. The mortgage 
practically gives me the Peters building. 
I ’ll have to put a little more into it, of course 

—probably I ’ll buy the second mortgage— 
but that won’t be difficult. Paul will be 

president, of course. I’m interested in the 
business merely as stockholder and director. 
Paul and I have been talking it over; and 
we’d like you to be assistant business manager, 
Jimmy, if you’d care to take the position. 
The salary will be adequate. I ’ll talk that 
over with you later. Of course we ’ll all have 
to pitch in and help support Uncle James. If 
Randolph and Jimmy and I go shares—” 

“It’s up to his nephews, you know,” 
shrugged Randolph. “I’m only his cousin.” 

“And his brother-in-law,” said Billy evenly. 
“Of course I’m not proposing to do anything 
big—just to raise money enough to keep 
Uncle James going. And I expect Wilhel- 
mina to do most of it, and Uncle James him¬ 
self to do what he can.” 



238 


Uncle James Shoes 


“I can’t do anything,” gasped Wilhelmina. 
She had been mentally clinging to Billy, the 
firmest thing to cling to, and he was unclasp¬ 
ing her hands and setting her on her feet. 

“Oh, nonsense,” encouraged Billy. “You ’re 
a perfectly capable girl. I rather think 
you could buy out Miss Spring’s milli¬ 
nery shop and make a go of it. They tell 
me you make first-rate hats. Of course 
you ’d have to study it up a bit, maybe at 
Boston, but I know you could make a success 
of it, if you like the idea.” 

Wilhelmina did not, but Billy had hypno¬ 
tized her. To her, too, he had become the 
Uncle James of the family. 

“Henrietta says she wants to go away,” 
went on Billy. “I’m sure she could find a 
job in New York. Certainly she could if 
she takes a course in stenography first.” 

Billy’s masterfulness had made Henrietta 
thoroughly repent her foolish words. Billy 
was surely a coming person. “We ’ll go out 
in your car this evening and talk it over,” she 
suggested. 


The World is Turned Upside Down 239 

“I ’m sorry,” said Billy shortly; “I’ve too 
much to do. I don’t want to force this idea 
on you. Of course if you want to stay in 
Stormville it’s none of my business.” 

Bessie’s rising rage overflowed. “If you 
think you ’re going to make my daughters 
into milliners and stenographers—” she cried. 

Unexpectedly Randolph supported Billy. 
“They’ve got to do something,” he declared. 
“I can’t take care of too many poor relations.” 

“It would n’t hurt them to do a little work 
for a change,” put in Euphemia. “Look at 
the way my Martha slaved and toiled in the 
summer heat,” and, suddenly realizing what 
had happened, she added triumphantly: 
“And look where she is now! Wife of the 
president of the Peters Cannery!” To Storm¬ 
ville the title was equivalent to President of 
the United States. 

“He’s not the president yet,” wept Wilhel- 
mina. “James is the president, and I’m his 
wife.” 

“Well, it’s nothing to be proud of,” flared 
Henrietta. 


240 


Uncle James Shoes 


Billy winced. “Don’t,” he begged. 

“She ought to know the truth,” protested 
Jimmy. “As business manager I want to tell 
you, Wilhelmina—” 

“I don’t want to hear it,” interrupted Wil¬ 
helmina. “James ran that cannery before 
you were born.” 

“And look at the state he got it into!” 
roared Jimmy, righteously indignant. With 
the true business manager’s instinct to blame 
his predecessors, he outlined Uncle James’s 
deplorable policies. “Why, it ’ll take me ten 
years to put that cannery on its feet,” he said. 
“I tell you it’s a big job I’ve got before me.” 

“It’s nothing to the job Mina’s got ahead,” 
said Henrietta airily. 

“I begin to think,” said Billy slowly, “that 
you ’re not worth salvaging, Henrietta.” 

Wilhelmina jumped up and put both her 
hands in Billy’s. “Billy,” she said brokenly, 
“if you ’ll stand by me I will be a milliner!” 
It marked a turning-point for Wilhelmina. 

“You won’t be a milliner!” cried her ex¬ 
asperated mother. 

“She shall be a milliner!” declared 



The World is Turned Upside Down 241 

Euphemia. On which Bessie and Euphemia 
started a little private battle of their own. 

In the midst of it the door of the par¬ 
lor opened, opened slowly. Voices were 
suspended in mid-air, and all eyes turned 
toward the door. What new bomb was about 
to be exploded? 

The door swung wide—and in shuffled 
William Clintock, paper in his hands, slip¬ 
pers on his feet, wonder in his eyes. 
‘‘What’s this?” he asked, “A party? Why 
don’t you light the gas?” 

Billy struck a match on his shoe and lit 
the gas while Euphemia pulled down the 
shades. Gas-light somehow gave a new color 
to things. Bessie rose to go. “No, it’s not 
a party,” she said. 

Euphemia summed up the situation: 
“Wilhelmina’s married to James, and James 
is bankrupt and going to jail, and Paul 
Street’s to be head of the cannery, and 
Jimmy’s to be business manager, and Billy 
wants Wilhelmina to be a milliner, and I 
think he’s perfectly right.” 

William Ciintock’s eyes fluttered. Hastily 



242 


Uncle James Shoes 


he took a chair. “You don’t say!” he gasped. 

“James Peters is a scoundrel,” said Jimmy, 
glad to get it off his chest at last. 

Responding to long years of training, 
William Clintock said at once: “Oh, no, no, 
Jimmy. Your Uncle James is a very fine 
man,” and was surprised to hear his wife 
break out with, “Oh, William! How can 
you say such things?” 

Anxious to get back into favor, William 
shook his head at Billy. “Are you mixed up 
in this thing?” he said reproachfully. 

“What’s the matter with Billy?” demanded 
Euphemia. “Here he’s saving the whole 
family, and you ’re reproaching him. Don’t 
you know it’s Billy who made Jimmy busi¬ 
ness manager and Paul Street president?” 

“Well, well, well,” said William Clintock, 
“that was real good of Billy.” He took pains 
to change the subject. “I see they’ve got the 
income tax returns out,” he said, gesturing 
with his paper. “James made ten thousand 
last year.” 

Euphemia seized the paper. Bessie 
paused. A smile broke over her face. 


The World is Turned Upside Down 243 

“Maybe this was all a mistake,” she said hope¬ 
fully. 

“He can’t have made that much,” said 
Randolph incredulously. “He’s been bor¬ 
rowing right and left.” 

“Well, they’ve certainly got one man down 
at ten thousand,” corroborated Euphemia. 

Billy stirred. “Oh, well, it’s somebody 
else,” he said. 

“That’s foolishness,” objected Euphemia. 
“You know there’s no one else in Stormville 
that makes that much. I’m going down to¬ 
morrow to see if they’ve made a mistake.” 

“Don’t bother, Mother,” said Billy. “As 
a matter of fact, that happens to be my income 
tax.” 

“Mother, let’s go home,” said Henrietta. 

“Come, Randolph,” sighed Bessie, in the 
midst of Euphemia’s questions and exclama¬ 
tions. 

But Billy interfered. “I want to speak 
to Randolph alone a moment,” he said. 
“Mother,” he apologized, “would you and 
Father mind leaving the room?” 

Bessie departed with the girls. William 


244 


Uncle James Shoes 


Clintock shuffled away, and Euphemia, after 
extracting Billy’s promise to stay to supper, 
followed. 

Billy, who had held the door open for them 
to pass out, closed it behind them and stood 
with his back against it, facing Randolph. 


t 


CHAPTER XIII 


RANDOLPH RECOMMENDS A WAY OUT 



ANDOLPH,” said Billy at once, 
“where is Persis?” 

Randolph lit a cigarette and turned 
to throw the match in the fireplace before he 
answered over his shoulder, “Why do you 
ask?” 

“Because I Ve lost track of her,” answered 
Billy. 

“So you Ve been watching her these past 
years?” 

“Of course,” returned Billy. “I Ve always 
known where she was. And now she’s not at 
the college, and not at the New York apart¬ 
ment. They have n’t lived there for some 
time. My letters there and to the college 


have been returned.” 

“Yes?” said Randolph, blowing out the 
smoke. 


245 


246 Uncle James Shoes 

Billy’s eyes narrowed. “I want you to tell 
me where she is,” he said. 

“Which presumes,” said Randolph, “first 
that I know, and second that I am willing to 
tell.” 

“Why do you make a secret of it?” asked 
Billy. 

“Perhaps to spare Persis your tumultuous 
love-making,” smiled Randolph. 

Billy was sensitive there. Randolph saw. 
He clenched his hands until the knuckles were 
white. It was a moment before he said: “If 
Persis tells me that she wants me to keep away 
from her, I ’ll do it. Please leave it to her.” 

“I have other reasons,” offered Randolph, 
“for not telling you where she is.” He 
wondered how much he would tell Billy. He 
rather enjoyed giving him information bit by 
bit, but at the same time he must be careful 
not to go too far. Billy waited. “My rela¬ 
tions with Persis,” Randolph went on, “are 
on an unusual basis. She is under great 
obligations to me.” 

“You have been of service to her?” asked 
Billy. 


Randolph Recommends a Way Out 247 

Randolph could not resist the temptation. 
“I have lent her a good deal of money,” he 
said, watching Billy closely. Randolph 
knew Stormville standards. 

To Randolph’s surprise, Billy took the 
news the wrong way. “That was a privilege. 
She is n’t under obligations to you for 
that.” 

Randolph was piqued. “Fortunately Per- 
sis has* a different code of honor from yours,” 
he said. “She gave me notes for the money.” 

“Why did she need it?” asked Billy. 

Randolph hardly meant to answer, but he 
found himself saying: “Her father’s busi¬ 
ness went to pieces. She wanted to finish 
the courses she was taking. It was a reason¬ 
able idea. In fact, I suggested it myself.” 

“Well,” said Billy, “I don’t see why you 
can’t tell me where she is.” 

“Perhaps I want to spare your feelings,” 
suggested Randolph. “But if you really 
want to understand the situation, I might add 
that the notes I hold signed by Persis are 
almost due.” 

“And she can’t pay them?” cried Billy. 


248 Uncle James Shoes 

“Unfortunately I have not yet found her a 
position,” admitted Randolph. “The work 
she has specialized in has an extremely small, 
restricted field. It is practically impossible 
for Persis to find a position without my recom¬ 
mendation.” 

“Will you let me buy those notes from you?” 
asked Billy. 

“Unfortunately, no,” smiled Randolph. 
“Those notes have a peculiar value to me.” 

“You ’re planning to hold them over Persis 
to—” 

“There’s always a way out,” said Randolph, 
“and there’s one particularly easy way out of 
this situation, as I ’ll try to explain to Persis— 
very gently.” 

“You ’re trying to force her to marry you?” 
asked Billy bluntly. 

“Hardly,” said Randolph, “but I’m hoping 
she ’ll do me that honor. It will solve her 
problem and spare her father the knowledge 
that she is in debt. David Hamilton belongs 
to the old school, you know. It would be a 
blow to him. And at present he is not well, 



Randolph Recommends a Way Out 249 

not at all well. Indeed, her father’s illness is 
what has put Persis in these financial straits.” 

“Of all the dastardly, cowardly—” began 
Billy. 

Randolph stopped smoking. “Not so fast, 
Billy,” he said, looking at his cousin. 

Billy towered even over Randolph’s slim 
tallness, his eyes blazing. But he spoke in a 
controlled voice. “Randolph, you are the 
most contemptible cur on the face of the earth. 
I don’t even except Uncle James.” 

“Look here,” said Randolph, “you ’re going 
too far. Go back to your cannery and leave 
Persis to me.” 

“I ’ll never leave Persis to you,” said Billy. 
“I ’ll begin now and hunt for her till I die.” 
Randolph looked at him thoughtfully. 

“I begin to see,” he said, “why Henrietta 
and Wilhelmina are in love with you.” 

“W-what do you mean?” gasped Billy, 
taken off his feet by this change in the conver¬ 
sation. 

“I’ve been watching them this afternoon,” 
went on Randolph. “Henrietta’s all ready to 


250 


Uncle James Shoes 


fall in love with you, and Wilhelmina ’s far 
gone already. It interests me, from a purely 
scientific point of view.” 

Billy saw a new Randolph before him, one 
who no longer sneered. Perhaps there was a 
way, after all, to approach Randolph. 

“It’s a fascinating psychological study,” 
went on Randolph. “I might have taken up 
psychology if astronomy had n’t caught me 
first. I’d really advise you to marry Henri¬ 
etta, Billy.” 

So he was sarcastic, after all. Billy turned 
on him. “I don’t care to listen to this,” he 
said. 

Randolph threw away his cigarette and 
faced Billy. “I’m speaking sincerely,” he 
said in a new voice. “I know I’m not worthy 
of Persis, and I know you are. I admire you, 
Billy, as I admire few people. It’s only 
lately that I’ve realized the stuff that’s in 
you. I understand why you appeal to my 
sisters. It’s the same appeal that Persis has 
for me. You and Persis are real people. 

People that we can grasp and hold on to. 

• 

People that we can be sure of. We don’t 


Randolph Recommends a Way Out 251 

admire ourselves or each other, and we don’t 
trust ourselves or each other. But we can 
admire and trust you—you and Persis.” 

Billy stood speechless. It was as though 
Randolph had torn off a mask. 

“Don’t misunderstand me,” went on Ran¬ 
dolph. “I ’m not giving up Persis. I don’t 
see any reason why I should give up Persis. 
Morally, if you care for that viewpoint, I’ve 
as good a right to her as you have. Biolog¬ 
ically—which is the main thing—I’ve a 
better right to her. If you marry Henrietta 
and I marry Persis we ’ll both benefit the 
world.” The mask was on again. Perhaps 
Randolph felt that he had said too much. He 
prepared to leave. “I think the ‘party’ is over 
now,” he said. “Need I say that I have 
enjoyed it?” 

Billy blocked the way. “Are you going to 
tell me where she is?” he asked. 

“I am not,” said Randolph, “much as I 
regret to be disobliging.” 

Billy saw that it was no use. He stood 
aside and let Randolph pass. “Read over 
‘Evangeline’ before you start on’your expedi- 



252 


Uncle James Shoes 


tion,” said Randolph as he left. “It may 
cheer you up.” 

Persis paused before the last flight and 
shifted 'her bundles to the other arm. These 
stairs were pretty stiff. Still, the hallway was 
wide and airy. There was nothing stuffy 
about the house. With recovered breath she 
went up the last flight and knocked on the 
ground-glass window of her father’s door. 

“Come in, Persis,” called David Hamilton 
weakly. Persis entered. The room was 
fairly large and quite sunny, an effect that 
was enhanced by yellow curtains. David 
Hamilton was in bed. His thin hand held a 
book, which he had just put down. 

“Randolph’s been here,” said Hamilton. 
“He said he’d come back again after lunch. 
I asked him if he’d found anything for you, 
and he said not yet.” 

“Well, I’m not going to wait much longer,” 
said Persis heatedly. “He keeps urging me 
to wait, and here it is October tenth and 
nothing in sight yet.” 

“Don’t get angry with him, Persis,” soothed 


Randolph Recommends a Way Out 253 

her father. “Randolph’s a true friend to 
you, and he’s trying his best. He ’s quite 
right to advise you to wait. I would n’t hear 
of your going into an office.” 

“Neither will the people in the offices,” 
shrugged Persis. “I’ve been around to a lot 
of publishing-houses this morning, and they 
all tell me the same thing: it’s a dull year, 
and they ’re cutting down their staffs as it is. 
If I knew stenography I might get something, 
but I don’t. I don’t know anything but 
astronomy, which is n’t very useful round an 
office.” 

“Now, Persis, I don’t want you to go into 
an office,” complained Hamilton. “I don’t 
like these modern office women. An office is 
no place for you. Now, if you could teach in 
a college—” 

“But apparently I can’t—without Ran¬ 
dolph’s recommendation,” objected Persis. 
“I tried for half a dozen positions, and they 
all asked for a recommendation, and I 
referred them to Randolph, and that was the 
end of it. Sometimes I think Randolph 
does n’t want me to get a position.” 



254 


Uncle James Shoes 


David Hamilton sighed. "‘Randolph’s a 
fine young fellow,” he remarked. “I wish 
you—” 

Persis rose. “I ’ll go and get lunch,” she 
said. She took her bundles across the hall to 
her own room, a room smaller and darker 
than her father’s, with a part of its space 
devoted to a kitchenette. They were in an old 
residence that had been converted into a 
rooming-house, an unpretentious place, but 
not without charm. It was in the inter¬ 
mediate neighborhood between Greenwich 
Village and Old Chelsea, and the roomers 
were mostly musicians, artists, and writers, 
more or less unsuccessful. 

Persis took a bunch of celery from one of 
the paper bags she had brought in, cut the red 
tape that tied it, and prepared to cook it over 
her two-burner gas stove. Her housekeeping 
arrangements were simple. The butter was 
kept in a glass jar that stood in running water 
in the wash-basin. Granulated sugar was in 
another jar. Several cans of evaporated milk 
stood along the shelf below which Persis hung 
her dresses. 



Randolph Recommends a Way Out 255 

It was not a sumptuous establishment, but 
Persis did not mind simplicity. It was 
annoying to be poor, but not, to Persis, 
humiliating. By her indifference to appear¬ 
ances Persis was inoculated against the real 
sting of poverty. 

While she prepared lunch Persis thought 
over the situation. Her father did not 
realize how serious it was. They had only 
about fifty dollars left. She would simply 
have to find something soon. She would 
tell Randolph so this afternoon, tell him that 
she could not wait any longer for the work 
he had promised to find for her. 

The last few years had been busy ones for 
Persis. She had finished her college course 
and done some extra work in astronomy. To 
a large extent she had been financed by 
Randolph, though she had earned what she 
could by tutoring at college. 

Once in a great while she had allowed her¬ 
self to think of Billy, but she felt that it was 
self-indulgence. She could not marry Billy 
for years to come, even if he still cared for 
her. So she had decided that it was better 


i 


256 


Uncle James Shoes 


to drop from his life. If he cared for her 
still, why reopen the wound? If not—well, 
that was the end of it. 

At lunch-time her father again cautiously 
circled around the question of Randolph. 
After a few preliminaries he vouchsafed: 
“Randolph was very good to me this morning. 
He said I did n’t have the doctor often 
enough. I think maybe he’s right.” 

“Randolph does n’t realize the financial 
situation,” said Persis coldly. 

“Well, there would n’t be any situation if 
you’d listen to him,” returned her father 
petulantly. “I can’t understand why you ’re 
so indifferent to him. Here he’s a gentle¬ 
man, with a good position, a good start in life, 
and interested in the very subject you ’re 
interested in—why, it’s .ideal. I’m sure I 
don’t see what more you want.” 

Persis stopped eating and wondered a 
moment at her father’s changed attitude 
toward her. There had been a time, not long 
ago, when he would not have heard of her 
marrying a belted earl. Had illness changed 
him? Had he grown self-indulgent, so that 



Randolph Recommends a Way Out 257 

he was only considering his own comfort? 
Did he look at her with different eyes, now 
that she was no longer a daughter of the 
pampered rich. No, she decided that he was 
worried about her future. He knew that she 
would be at least safe, if not affluent, as the 
wife of Randolph Kelsey, and he was using 
any argument that might persuade her to 
marry him. That was why he was trying to 
suggest that he did not have the doctor often 
enough. He thought she would marry 
Randolf for the sake of the comforts she 
could give her father. 

Randolph came about an hour later. Paus¬ 
ing in the hall, he heard that Persis was in her 
own room, and so he knocked there instead of 
at David Hamilton’s door. Persis, who had 
readily adopted the simplified conventions of 
the neighborhood, invited him in. 

“I’m glad you came. I want to talk to 
you,” she said. “Take that wicker chair. 
It’s the least likely to break down.” Ran¬ 
dolph, however, insisted on taking the straight- 
backed chair and installing Persis in the 
other. 


258 


Uncle James Shoes 


“Randolph,” said Persis, “I’m hunting for 
a job. It’s too late now to find one at a 
college. I ’ll just take what I can get here in 
New York.” 

Randolph was silent for a moment. Then 
rather coldly he said, “Evidently you don’t 
care for my opinion.” 

Persis was tired and discouraged, but, with 
something more than her usual patience, she 
answered pleasantly enough, “If it takes into 
consideration the fact that we ’re up against 
it, I’d be interested to hear it.” 

“It does,” Randolph replied significantly. 
“Persis, why can’t you care for me? I love 
you as no one else will ever love you. You 
bring out the best in me. You ’re the one 
person that I can hold to for ever, the very 
rock foundation of my life. I know I can 
make you love me. If you ’ll only marry me 
and straighten out all this tangle, I swear to 
you I 'll make you happy. Won't you—for 
your father’s sake?” 

Persis shook her head. “No, Randolph,” 
she said, “absolutely and finally, no. I don’t 
know why I won’t marry you, but I know I 


Randolph Recommends a Way Out 259 

won’t. I know I never will. I ’d rather 
starve.” 

It was not a complimentary way to phrase 

her refusal, but Persis was tired of saying 
no. 

Randolph sat silent, his expression had 
changed. Suddenly he asked: “Are we, 
then, on a purely impersonal basis? Shall I 
entirely disregard my feeling for you in our 
future relations?” 

“Please do!” flashed Persis. “I ’m tired of 
being made love to. It would be a relief if 
you would treat me exactly as you would a 
casual acquaintance.” 

“My dear girl,” smiled Randolph, suddenly 
sarcastic, “you don’t know what you ’re 
saying.” 

His banter irritated Persis. “What do you 
mean?” she asked. “You speak as if there 
were some reason why we could n’t be im¬ 
personal.” 

Randolph still smiled. “I am certainly 
treating you more indulgently than I would a 
‘casual acquaintance.’ ” 

“Then please don’t!” flashed Persis, “I 


260 


Uncle James Shoes 


don’t know what you ’re talking about, but I 
don’t want to be indulged.” 

“Very well,” said Randolph, reaching for 
his hat, “the first payment on your debt to me 
is due to-morrow. I believe the note is for 
fifty dollars. I ’ll put it through my bank to¬ 
morrow morning.” 

Persis began to speak and stopped short. 
She had never worried about those notes. Of 
course she had intended to pay them as soon 
as Randolph found her a position—that had 
been understood when she borrowed the 
money—but she had never dreamed that he 
would hold them over her. 

“But, Randolph,” she faltered, “I—I can’t 
—pay them now—and Father must n’t know I 
owe you money.” 

“As a person with whom you have a purely 
impersonal business relationship,” said Ran¬ 
dolph, “that is not my concern.” 

“You ’re contemptible!” cried Persis. “You 
know very well why I can’t get a position! 
You refuse to recommend me and then hold 
me up for the money!” She had jumped to 





Randolph Recommends a Way Out 261 

her feet. Randolph rose and stood beside her, 
looking down at her with a curious expression. 

“It was entirely your suggestion that I 
should treat you impersonally,” he said. 

“But—but I did n’t expect you to do that ” 
cried Persis. “You know it would make 
Father worse if he found out.” 

“As I said before—that is not my concern,” 
returned Randolph. “I rather need the 
money. Not seriously—but I have lost a good 
deal through the failure of a company in 
which I was a stockholder. I think it would 
be quixotic of me to consider the circumstances 
of a creditor who is merely—a casual ac¬ 
quaintance.” 

“Do you mean that you are really going 
to do this?” asked Persis slowly, looking up 
at him. 

“Yes!” said Randolph with sudden violence. 
“I love you at this moment as intensely as I 
ever did. I’d throw those beastly notes in 
the fire if I could once hold you in my arms.” 
He looked at her like a wanderer in the desert 
gazing at a spring of clear water denied to 




262 


Uncle James Shoes 


him. “But I hate you,” he went on, “as 
violently as I love you. If I can’t have you 
I ’ll do all I can to make you miserable.” 

Persis was dumfounded. Randolph had 
always been the polite scholar, a person whose 
emotions had seemed well, almost too well, 
under control. But she was not weakened by 
his intensity. Randolph’s heat made her own 
anger die down, but there was steel beneath 
her quietness. “All of this does n’t change 
the facts,” she said. “I don’t love you and I 
never will. Put your note through the bank. 
I ’ll meet it.” 

“Very well,” said Randolph, turning away, 
“and I expect you to meet the next, which 
is due a week from to-morrow. After that 
they follow in rapid succession.” 

He left her standing there, as calm as 
though she had thousands in the bank. But 
through her mind was going the thought, “I 
wonder how in the world I ’ll buy tomorrow’s 
dinner?” 


CHAPTER XIV 

IN WHICH BILLY GOES HUNGRY 


T HE morning after his interview with 
Randolph, Billy went early to the 
Street cannery to talk matters over 
with Paul. He planned to get back to his 
barn in time to pack his bag and catch the 
ten o’clock train for New York. He figured 
that Persis would be in New York because 
that was the place people always went when 
they were looking for work. 

He hated to leave to Paul the brunt of the 
work of rearranging the cannery affairs, but 
Paul was a good sort. He’d understand. 
Billy found Paul in a cheerful frame of mind. 
James Peters’s misfortunes did not weigh 
heavily upon him. And he had news for 
Billy. It seemed that Wilhelmina had spent 
the night at the Streets,’ after a long talk with 
Martha. Wilhelmina had made the sur¬ 
prising announcement that she was going 

263 


264 


Uncle James Shoes 


to take out of the bank all the money she had, 
go to Boston, and look for work in a mil¬ 
linery shop. What did Billy think of that? 
Moreover, she was going to send part of the 
money she earned to James Peters. Other¬ 
wise, however, she seemed to have no feeling 
of responsibility for the welfare of her re¬ 
cently acquired husband. 

Paul and Billy talked over the consol¬ 
idation, arranged to take over the second 
mortgage on the Peters cannery in order to 
protect James Peters, and otherwise charted 
their new plans. Billy promised to come 
back as soon as he could, but he did not know 
how soon that would be. However, he would 
keep in touch with Paul by letter. 

As Billy turned to go, Paul suddenly 
remembered something. “Hold on a min¬ 
ute,” he said, “Martha told me to give you 
this.” He pulled from his pocket a small 
package done up in tissue-paper and white 
ribbon. 

Billy felt it tentatively, the way a man 
always does feel a present. “What is it?” 
he asked. 


In Which Billy Goes Hungry 265 

“Birthday present,” explained Paul. 

“By Jove,” said Billy, “it is my birthday! 
Martha’s a wonder. She never forgets it.” 
He dropped the package into his pocket. 

Back at his barn, Billy was surprised to 
find two more packages awaiting him, one in 
and one below his letter-box. He took them 
in and opened them hastily. “Well, what do 
you know about that?” he asked himself. 

The first was a stick-pin, in one of Hipp’s 
best red velvet boxes. The accompanying 
card read: 

Wishing you a happy birthday. 

Mother. 

It was the first time in fifteen years that 
Euphemia had remembered his birthday. 

The second package contained a set of silk 
socks, “with birthday greetings from Jimmy.” 
Billy shook his head and went to pack his 
bag. He was interrupted by a series of loud 
bangs at the door. The person responsible 
for this disturbance of the peace proved to be 
Eddie Watson, Stormville’s most popular 
runner of errands. 


266 


Uncle James Shoes 


“Hello Bil—” began Eddie, but, remarking 
that Billy was dressed in regular city style, 
he hastily changed to “Mr. Clintock.” He 
presented Billy with a good-sized box, and 
hung around. “Mrs. ’Kelsey sent them,” he 
said. “They’re assorted. You may not like 
the cocoanut kind. Some folks don’t. But I 
think they ’re the best of all.” 

“So do I,” agreed Billy unfeelingly, but he 
immediately opened the box with “Have some, 
Eddie.” While Eddie took all he could 
manage with one hand, politely refraining 
from using both, Billy read the card: 

Wishing you many happy returns of the day. 

Cousin Bessie. 

“Eddie,” said Billy, “do I look any differ¬ 
ent to you this morning?” 

“Gee, you do look dressed up,” Eddie as¬ 
sured him. “Dad said this morning you were 
getting rich. I like rich people. There 
was a rich man over at the hotel once, and 
every time I took anything over to him he 
gave me a quarter. I guess he was a billion- 
aire. 



In Which Billy Goes Hungry 267 

“Well, I’m only half of that, Eddie,” said 
-Billy. “Here’s a dime.” 

Billy put up in New York at a small hotel 
in the forties, and immediately started out for 
the apartment-house in the East Eighties 
where Persis had lived and from which his 
recent letters had been returned. Billy found 
it and questioned the elevator operator. Did 
he know the present address of a family 
named Hamilton who used to live here? 
The elevator man did not, having been in 
charge only a month, but he suggested the 
telephone operator. Billy found the tele¬ 
phone operator in a recess behind the el¬ 
evator. Did the telephone operator know the 
address of the family named Hamilton? The 
telephone operator had been in the apartment- 
house for five years, and she had no difficulty 
in remembering Miss Hamilton. (As a 
matter of fact, she had studied Persis daily 
and copied her from hat to shoes.) But as 
to Miss Hamilton’s present whereabouts, that 
was a matter on which the telephone opera¬ 
tor could give no information. Her letters 
had been forwarded to the college, and her 


268 Uncle James Shoes 

father’s letters had been forwarded to the 
Green Mountain Tin Mines, Inc. But as the 
Hamiltons had been gone about three years 
there were no longer any letters to forward. 

Billy had already tried to find the address 
of the tin-mine company, but it had sunk with¬ 
out a trace. He suggested that some one else 
in the building—the superintendent, perhaps, 
—might give him further data, but the tele¬ 
phone operator assured him that the super¬ 
intendent was new. The building had re¬ 
cently passed into new hands, and she was the 
only former employee who had been retained. 

Billy went out into the street without know¬ 
ing which way to turn, but Fifth Avenue, 
several blocks to his right, lured him, partly 
because there was something doing there, and 
partly because there were trees along one 
side, and trees made him feel less lonely. He 
wandered along wondering what he would do 
next. Perhaps there was some college club 
where Perris would be registered— 

“Billy Clintock, what are you doing here?” 
cried a man’s voice. 

Billy came to with a start and put out his 




In Which Billy Goes Hungry 269 

hand even before he recognized Lawyer 
Brown. 

“Why, hello , Mr. Brown,” said Billy, 
grasping the friendly hand, “I did n’t 
know you were down here.” 

“And I did n’t know you were,” said Mr. 
Brown. “What are you up to? You own 
the whole of Stormville now. Are you try¬ 
ing to buy up New York, too?” 

“No—I’m—I’m just looking around,” 
stammered Billy. “How did you happen to 
come down?” 

“Oh, I’m down for a month or two,” ex¬ 
plained Lawyer Brown. “No one goes to 
law any more in Stormville, now you own 
everything. No use suing you. So Mrs. 
Brown and I thought we might as well have 
a little trip and see the sights. A man just 
offered me a nice proposition the other day. 
Wanted to sell me the Municipal Building 
very cheap. I thought you might be in¬ 
terested.” 

“How can they tell a hick so quick?” re¬ 
marked Billy. “It’s probably the necktie. 
And the hat.” 


270 


Uncle James Shoes 


“Get away with you, Billy,” exploded Mr. 
Brown. “It’s the first time I ever saw you 
dressed up in your life. What are you doing? 
Looking for a wife? Oh, by the way. That 
reminds me. I saw an old friend of yours 
the other day. That girl you used to run 
around with some. A sensible looking girl, 
too. I never could understand it.” 

“Who was she?” asked Billy. 

“Oh, you know. That girl with fluffy hair 
that stayed at the inn four or five years ago. 
From the way she looks she seems to have 
missed you.” 

“Where did you see her?” demanded Billy. 

“Now where did I see her?” speculated 
Mr. Brown with a twinkle in his eye. “Did 
I see her in the Grand Central taking a train, 
or did I see her taking a boat for Europe?” 

“Where was it?” asked Billy breathlessly. 

“Well, it was yesterday I saw her,” admitted 
Lawyer Brown. “I was on the Fifth Avenue 
bus, down by Tenth Street. She was walk¬ 
ing along the street.” 

“Fifth Avenue and Tenth? What time 
was it you saw her?” 


In Which Billy Goes Hungry 271 

“Oh, I don’t know. Am I on the witness- 
stand? It was in the morning. About ten 
o’clock.” 

“Well, good-by,” said Billy. “I’m glad to 
have met you. Much obliged.” 

“At the rate she was going she’d be near 
Albany by this time, Billy,” Mr. Brown called 
after him. “That kid always was a quick 
[worker,” he murmured. 

Billy took a bus down-town and got off at 
Tenth Street. He wandered up and down 
Fifth Avenue in the dusk and then tried all the 
side streets from Eighth to Fourteenth as far 
west as Sixth Avenue and as far east as Broad¬ 
way. 

On his second round he absent-mindedly 
took in the name of a substantial old-fashioned 
hotel across the street, the Walpole Hotel. 
Where had he heard that name before? He 
passed on, but found himself coming back 
again a moment later. The Walpole Hotel. 
Yes, it had a familiar sound. A hearth came 
before his eyes, and a blazing fire. What had 
that to do with the Walpole Hotel? 

Like a flash it came over him. “We ’ll 


272 


Uncle James Shoes 


meet five years from now at the Walpole 
Hotel. Whatever happens—even if we ’re 
both married—we ’ll meet there.” He even 
remembered the table they had agreed to take 
—the table by the last window in the dining¬ 
room. 

Billy crossed, entered the hotel, and sat 
down in the lobby to think it over. It was 
just possible, just barely possible, that Persis 
might remember that appointment and keep 
it. She had suggested it herself. 

But what was the exact date? It was now 
five years since he had met Persis. He closed 
his eyes and summoned that day when they 
had become engaged. Pine Island—the fire¬ 
light—Persis in a dress the color of lilacs. 
What was it she had said? “Five years from 
now—five years from my next birthday.” 
That was it! And her birthday was—the 
day after his! That was it! October n. 
“It’s to-morrow!” said Billy suddenly. “To¬ 
morrow at one o’clock.” 

He sat there for a long while, and when he 
left it was with a quickened step. Probably 
it was absurd to think that Persis would re- 




In Which Billy Goes Hungry 273 

member. Nevertheless, Billy felt, somehow, 
that she would. 

The next day Billy reached the hotel at 
half-past twelve and walked nervously up 
and down the lobby. Everything hung on 
the next half-hour. If Persis came—he 
tingled with hope. But if she did n’t— His 
heart sank like lead. 

He had reserved the table by the last 
window in the dining-room. At exactly one 
o’clock he entered the dining-room and 
crossed to the table. The vacant seat opposite 
him was pushed far under the table, as 
though there were no chance that it would be 
used. Billy picked up the menu and tapped 
its edge against the table. He would not 
give up hope for ten minutes. She might be 
late. 

The minutes hurried by. The dining¬ 
room was unusually busy and short-handed, 
and no one came to take his order. Billy 
looked at the big clock at the end of the 
dining-room. Five minutes had gone. 

Resolutely Billy looked out of the window. 
He could just catch a glimpse of sunny, 


274 


Uncle James Shoes 


prosperous Fifth Avenue. Every one was 
hurrying. New York was a place to be 
merry in. It was no place for the unhappy. 
Miserably Billy looked back at the clock. It 
was ten minutes past one. Well, he’d allow 
himself to hope for two minutes more. Again 
he looked out of the window. But what was 
the use of hoping? He knew in his heart 
that Persis had forgotten. 

And Persis had forgotten. 

The waitress approached, and Billy turned 
from the window and glanced down at the 
menu in his hand. 

“Bring me—anything,” he said gruffly. 
“Some cold tongue—or anything else that’s 
ready.” 

Instead of the scrabbling of the waitress’s 
pencil there was a pause—a soundless pause. 
Billy looked up at the waitress—and into the 
face that he could never forget—the face of 
Persis. He rose, speechless. 

“Don’t, don’t,” whispered Persis hurriedly. 
“Sit down, Billy. Let me take your order.” 
Billy sank into his chair. 

“Don’t look at me, Billy,” whispered Per- 




In Which Billy Goes Hungry 275 

sis. “They ’ll notice it. I’m new here. 
This is my first day, and I don’t want to get 
—fired.” She thought she’d be able to say 
it lightly, but there was a tremor in her voice. 
“I ’ll bring you something,” she said, slipping 
her order-book into the pocket of her apron 
and turning away. 

Billy sat in a daze. How had it happened? 
Oh, if only he could rise and seat Persis in 
the opposite chair! But to sit still while 
she waited on him— 

Persis had recovered her composure by the 
time she returned. But she brought Billy a 
remarkable luncheon. She had taken the 
first things she could lay her hands on. Billy, 
however, had no idea what he was eating. 
As he put cranberry sauce on his bluefish he 
thought only of Persis. “Stay around a min¬ 
ute,” he whispered. “Don’t go away.” 

But she whispered back, “I’ve a lot to do,” 
and left him. 

Billy studied the menu. He would ask for 
something else. Unhappily the head waitress 
noticed him, and obligingly offered to take 
his order. He made it soup, and waved the 


276 


Uncle James Shoes 


bluefish away. He had vaguely noticed that 
it had a peculiar sweet taste. Besides, he 
wanted to begin at the beginning. 

It was Persis, after all, who brought him 
the soup. The head waitress had given her 
the order. 

“Please don’t order anything more, Billy,” 
she begged. “I ’ll see you later. I’m free at 
three o’clock. I ’ll come out at the door on 
the up-town side. You can’t miss it. Go 
now, won’t you, Billy? I can’t think what 
I’m doing when you ’re here.” 

The head waitress approached. “Is any¬ 
thing the matter?” she asked. 

“N-no, no indeed,” stammered Billy. 
“This is—is just what I wanted for dessert.” 
He tried to show an interest in the soup. 
After a few spoonfuls, however, he gave up 
and left the dining-room. 

In the lobby Billy changed from chair to 
chair. From this one he could sometimes 
catch a glimpse of Persis. From this he could 
see the dining-room clock, which had slowed 
down considerably after its ten-minute spurt 
at one o’clock. At last even this malicious 



In Which Billy Goes Hungry 277 

clock grudgingly admitted that it was seven¬ 
teen minutes to three. Billy took his hat and 
went out into the street. Up and down he 
walked in front of the side door of the hotel. 
After an eternity it opened and several women 
emerged. A second later Persis came out 
alone. 

Billy was by her side in an instant. He 
took her arm, as though he feared she might 
get away from him. “Which way?” he 
asked. 

“Across Fifth Avenue—west,” she an¬ 
swered. He piloted her through the traffic, 
and they started down Ninth Street. 

“How did you ever happen to be there, 
Billy?” asked Persis. 

“Why—why to meet you,” stammered 
Billy. 

“But how in the world did you know I was 
there?” wondered Persis. “Nobody else 
knew it. How could you have known I ’d be 
there?” 

Billy smiled down at her earnest astonish¬ 
ment. “Why, Persis,” he said, “you told me 
so yourself.” 


278 


Uncle James Shoes 


“What are you talking about, Billy?” 
demanded Persis. She was the same Persis. 
Adversity had not crushed her. 

“You told me so yourself,’ 7 repeated Billy 
gravely. “You told me to meet you there.” 

“Billy Clintock, talk sense,” ordered Persis. 

So Billy talked sense. “Don’t you remem¬ 
ber saying, ‘We ’ll meet five years from my 
next birthday, October eleventh, at the Wal¬ 
pole Hotel at one o’clock?’ Don’t you re¬ 
member it, Persis? How you said: ‘Even 
if we ’re both married to other people, we ’ll 
meet there?’ ” 

Persis drew in her breath quickly. “You ’re 
not , are you, Billy?” she asked. 

“Of course I’m not, Persis,” he answered 
in a low voice. The fingers holding her arm 
quivered. It seemed to Persis as though the 
sun had emerged from a cloud and was 
enveloping her in a soul-satisfying warmth. 

“Yes,” she said hurriedly, “I do remember 
how we agreed to meet there at the Walpole.” 

“But you did n’t keep the appointment,” 
Billy scolded. 

“Wasn’t I there?” demanded Persis. 


In Which Billy Goes Hungry 279 

‘'Wasn’t I just where I said I’d be—and on 
time, too? Billy—it was wonderful. It was 
providential. Was n’t it providential, Billy?” 

Billy nodded gravely. “Yes,” he said, “it 
was providential.” 

By the time they reached her home he had 
told her of his interview with Randolph and 
his search for her, and she had rehearsed 
briefly what had happened to her during the 
last years. “So you see I had to get a job at 
once,” she explained. “We were frightfully 
up against it. And I’d heard two girls talk¬ 
ing in the subway about how much a wait¬ 
ress makes—forty dollars a week they said— 
and it seemed to me that that would be the 
simplest way to keep going. Of course I 
could n’t tell Daddy about it, but don’t you 
think it was a reasonable idea, Billy?” 

“Very reasonable,” agreed Billy, whose con¬ 
ception of a waitress was a person who waited 
—a simple and workable hypothesis. 

“So I went to the Walpole because I knew 
all about it,” went on Persis. “We used to 
stay there years ago. And they were very 
short-handed, but they said they did n’t take 


280 


Uncle James Shoes 


inexperienced help. So I told them I knew 
all about the etiquette of waiting—how you 
mustn’t spill soup on the patrons and that 
sort of thing—and they finally agreed to try 
me out. The head waitress said she’d keep 
an eye on the people I served. I certainly 
did think I was done for when you started to 
make a scene. Here’s where I live. Take a 
long breath before you start the ascent. It’s 
pretty stiff.” But to Billy it was like climb¬ 
ing the golden stairway. 

Persis knocked softly at her father’s door, 
and, getting no answer, peeped in. “Daddy’s 
asleep,” she whispered. “We ’ll go into my 
room.” 

Like a worshiper entering a temple, Billy 
entered the little room across the hall. 

“Just put your hat on the pantry shelf up 
there,” invited Persis, “and take whatever 
looks to you most like a chair.” But Billy 
did not sit down. He stood watching her 
gravely while she put away her hat and coat 
and touched her hair lightly before the 
mirror. 

She turned from the mirror and looked him 




In Which Billy Goes Hungry 281 

over. “There’s more of you than ever, 
Billy,” she said. “But you have n’t changed 
much. You look older, of course, and as 
though you’d be able to give a weighty opin¬ 
ion on any matter that came up; but you ’re 
Billy still, the same Billy.” 

“With the same one interest in life,” said 
Billy, moving over to her. He took her 
hands in his and looked at her gravely. 
“You ’re still the center of everything,” he 
said. “Other matters revolve around you, 
but you ’re fixed there at the heart of things 
for ever. Persis—do you feel the—the way 
you used to?” 

“Just exactly the same,” said Persis. 

For a long while they sat together on the 
couch, his arm around her. “How soon can 
we be married. What’s the very soonest?” 
Billy asked at last. 

“Billy,” said Persis, “if you ’ll let me sit 
over there in that straight chair I ’ll give you 
a sensible, strong-minded answer. I ’ll tell 
you we won’t get married until I’m support¬ 
ing myself and Daddy and have paid Ran¬ 
dolph every cent.” 




282 


Uncle James Shoes 


“Persis,” said Billy, “if you ever go near 
that straight-backed chair again I ’ll pick you 
up and carry you off cave-man style. Do you 
think for one instant I ’ll wait one second 
longer than is necessary? Have n’t I waited 
five years, Persis? Five thousand years. 
yVe ’ll go right down now and get the mar¬ 
riage license.” 

“Billy,” protested Persis, “you know I can’t 
think sensibly until you let me go. Please— 
don’t let me go.” 

“I won’t,” promised Billy. 

In the years that followed, Stormville came 
to recognize Billy as its first citizen. Indeed, 
when James Peters died, two years after Billy 
and Persis were married, the local paper 
headed his obituary notice: “Uncle of 
William Clintock, Jr., Passes Away.” It was 
Stormville’s ultimate compliment. Even 
David Hamilton, who had been installed in 
the home of a young Stormville doctor, be¬ 
gan to realize the importance of his son-in- 
law. 

The Clintock and Kelsey families settled 


In Which Billy Goes Hungry 283 

down to the new order of things. Wilhel- 
mina, after several years in Boston, opened a 
millinery shop in Stormville and did well. 
Soon after her husband’s death, however, she 
married a Boston haberdasher and moved 
permanently to that city. Randolph was 
called to a Western University as the head of a 
department and married a wealthy widow, 
who developed a neat stock of jokes on his ob¬ 
session for star-gazing. Henrietta, after a 
futile attempt to ensnare Jimmy—futile be¬ 
cause Euphemia was on the job—married a 
traveling salesman. He subsequently con¬ 
gratulated himself that he traveled. 

Cousin Bessie continued to live in Storm¬ 
ville, and to remember Billy’s birthdays, a 
matter of annual irritation to Euphemia. 

Billy gave his mother a liberal allowance 
so that she began to take the place she felt 
entitled to as the mother of Stormville’s lead¬ 
ing citizen. He urged her to take a trip to 
Europe, but somehow she had lost all in¬ 
terest in Europe. Perhaps it was not so 
much Europe as the hope of Europe that had 
lured her. 


284 Uncle James Shoes 

William Clintock branched out. He sub¬ 
scribed to an evening paper as well as a morn¬ 
ing one. This gave him a different outlook 
on life. The evening paper was Democratic, 
and the morning, Republican. Their con¬ 
tradictory statements gave a new drama to 
his day. In the morning he was as strong a 
Republican as ever, but in the evening he 
leaned ominously toward the Democratic 
party. When election day came he com¬ 
mitted a sin which he would have believed 
himself incapable of a few years before. He 
split his ticket. 

Martha and Paul had half a dozen energetic 
children, whom their Grandmother Clintock 
often advised to be polite to their Uncle Billy. 
But, to Billy’s relief, they never treated him 
with any particular respect, for they were on 
intimate terms with their Uncle Billy and 
Aunt Persis and their three little cousins, and 
often dropped in uninvited to take breakfast 
on a breakfast porch facing the sea. 


t; 



























LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 






































































































































































































































